


The Killer's Club

by kickcows



Series: Killer's Club AU [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Restraints, Torture, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Michaelis is an assassin, and a good one at that. He gets trapped, however, and finds himself in a precarious position with a known fellow assassin that goes by the name Undertaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a major thirst for these two men to be together, and this 'story' is a culmination of that. I hope you will enjoy this tale, as I plan on having lots of fun exploring this different side to these two powerful men. 
> 
> Prompt - "I'm not going to break that easily."

 

* * *

His head knocks back, after being struck a third time by a hand, fingernails scratching his cheek, droplets of blood making their appearance along the scratch. A soft groan leaves his mouth, his wits unable to stop the sound. He’d rather not make any noise, which is the way he’s been taught should he ever come into this sort of situation. Flexing his arms, he finds that they’re restrained; something is wrapped around his wrists. His shirt is hanging open, buttons undone, exposing him to the elements of the warm room. Never in his ten years of working in this field had he ever been caught like this. The person who has caught him deserves a medal, as he - or perchance, she - is the first. Sebastian Michaelis has always eluded the enemy, but a simple trap has done him in. This is what he gets for not checking the drink he had been offered for any signs of tampering. His skin begins to sizzle, as a hot poker is pressed against his side. Oh, this person is good.

“I’m not going to break that easy.” He hisses, ignoring the burn on his side. Hot pokers are definitely not his cup of tea, but had used them on many others before to know that they can be quite effective when necessary. “It will take a lot more to make me talk.”

A repetitious laugh makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He knows this laugh. “Ah, but you see, Mr. Michaelis, we’re just getting started. This is just the beginning.” As if to prove a point, the nails returned, scratching his chest near the still sensitive flesh. Long black nails trail down his sternum.

“Undertaker.” Silver hair is pulled back, revealing luminescent yellow-green eyes. “I thought you got out of the business.”

“You see, there’s a funny thing about this business.” Another wave of laughter leaves the man’s mouth, his nails dragging down his chest harder. Sebastian leans his head back, showing no sign of weakness. He will not be undone this way. “If the price is right, you will always get pulled back in.”

He feels the heat from the poker hovering next to his side. “So, the price for me was worth it?”

“I did not say that.” Undertaker keeps the poker close, but does not touch his skin. “Who’s to say it’s _you_  that’s the price I’m after? Perhaps it’s who _you_  are after that has brought me back into this game.”

Maroon eyes narrow. “What do you know of my mark?”

“I know that you’re after a boy.” Undertaker sets the poker back into the fire, Sebastian finding a small peace of mind that the burning iron is no longer near his flesh. “Perhaps I’m after this boy too.”

“You won’t get to him first.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” A sharp cackle rings in Sebastian’s ear, long grey hair touching his chest. “You can’t do much right now, can you? All caught in a web, Mr. Michaelis. Tsk tsk.”

Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply. “I see no web. Just because you were able to drug me doesn’t mean you will be breaking me this evening.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Hands begin to touch the belt at his waist. “I know you, Mr. Michaelis. I know what your weaknesses are.”

Sebastian stays perfectly still. He does not fall for this man’s trap, knowing it’s better to keep his mouth shut. The belt is removed, fingers now pulling the zipper of his fly down. A nail touches his hardness, making him moan involuntarily. Wait - why is he hard?

“I told you, I know what your weaknesses are.” His captor speaks into his ear. “Did you think that the only thing I put into your drink was rohypnol?”

He wants to shut his brain down. Years of training have taught him to do just that. But, that nail keeps dragging down his length, making him see stars behind his closed eyelids. Can’t give into this - can’t give into this - can’t give into this. The words repeat over and over in his mind, focusing on this mantra, ignoring how his pants and underwear are no longer on his body. _Can’t give into this_.

A warm hand wraps around the base of his cock. “Why do you insist on fighting? Would you really prefer I keep using the poker on you?”

“Yes.” He seethes, keeping his eyes shut tightly. “Burn my skin. Burn me all over.”

“Ah, but you know. That’s what _you_ want, so where’s the fun in that?” Undertaker pumps his cock slowly, the hand fitting perfectly around his girth. “Mr. Michaelis, do you wish for me to stop?”

“Yes.” He answers instantly. Whatever drug is running through his system is making this man’s touch better than any he’s had in ages. When _was_  the last time he laid with a person? Ah, yes. It had been with Ronald, almost two years ago.

Torture is his game. He knows how to break people. People were not supposed to know how to break him. He’d never once given up this information to anyone, so how is it that Undertaker knows just what to do to make him this debilitated? The hand continues to pump his cock, squeezing ever so gently to get a rise out of him. He bites his lip, refusing to give into the temptations that his body is practically begging him to submit to.

“I’ll stop this game, if you tell me where the mark is.” He can smell something sweet on Undertaker’s breath. It smells faintly of shortbread biscuits. “If you refuse, then I’ll just have to do something else.”

Sebastian keeps his mouth closed. He will not let this man have the whereabouts of his next mark. The pay is too high. “No.”

“That’s too bad, then.” His cock is released, Sebastian gasping for some much needed air.

The restraints on his hands force him to turn over onto his stomach. He keeps his mouth shut, even though he wants to question why this man has made him be in this position. He hears the poker rustling in the fire, his eyes opening wide when he realizes just what’s going to happen.

“You know, it would be so much easier if you would just talk.” Undertaker pulls on his hips, forcing him to sit on his knees, his ass now up in the air. “But, I suppose since you are _the_  Sebastian Michaelis, not talking is what makes you one of the best in our business.”

“You’re too kind.” He mumbles under his breath, head hanging down, black bangs framing his face.

Another repetitious chuckle leaves the other man’s mouth. “Am I?” He feels the heat of the poker near his right asscheek. “Perhaps I should shove this up your ass, Michaelis. Maybe that will get you to talk.”

“It won’t.” Gritting his teeth, he prepares himself for the worst.

The pain never comes. Sweat drips down his brow. _Can’t give into this_. He takes a deep breath, but it only lasts for a second before his breath catches in his throat. His body runs cold when he feels something bulbous push against his entrance. No. Surely he won’t do this.

“Perhaps the way to make you talk would be to just fuck it out of you, Mr. Michaelis.” Undertaker pushes the tip of his cock into him, breaching him without the aide of any lubricant. A hand grips his hip, forcing him to stay up on his knees. Silver hair drapes over his back and shoulders, as his assailant leans down. “Don’t even think about trying to buck me off, Sebastian.”

He wishes he could have had the hot poker shoved up his ass, just as the man had suggested. That would have been better than this. Anything would have been better than this. Anything to take away this humiliation he is experiencing. Is this what his targets experience when he tries to break them? It must be, for he feels himself slipping, his mouth trying to work against his brain, wanting to spill the secrets of where the Phantomhive boy is, just to relieve his body of this pain.

His cock thrusts deep into his body, blood trickling down Sebastian’s thigh. The man has torn him, but that isn’t the pain that hurts the most. No, the pain that hurts the most is what’s making him push his hips back to push the man deeper into his body. The pain of knowing he wants this, wants to feel more of Undertaker’s cock inside of him - that’s what he wishes he could get rid of. He lowers his head, a low moan escaping past his lips, his own body betraying him.

“That’s it, Sebastian.” Undertaker’s sweet-scented breath waifs through his nostrils, as he moans louder, his cock driving deeper into him. “Where’s the boy?”

“I don’t know.” He holds onto this lie. He will not give in to this man’s request. “How many times must I tell you this?”

The hand that had been around his cock earlier returns, stroking him agonizingly slow. “I think you _do_  know, and that you’re just being stubborn.” Undertaker’s thumb presses against the tip of his cock, sealing off the slit. “Two can play at that game, _Sebas-chan_.”

So that’s who sold his secrets. “How much?” He unwillingly moans after a harsh thrust pushes Undertaker’s cock against his prostate.

“Enough to keep him happy.” Undertaker chuckles low, his hand pumping him more, keeping his thumb pressed against the tip. “Seems he was more than willing to give up a few secrets about you when I offered him the cash.”

Sebastian couldn’t hate Ronald for giving into the wiles of this man, but it didn’t make it sting less. Another hard thrust makes him moan louder. “Y-You won’t get anything out of me.”

“Oh, yes I will.” Undertaker rolls his hips, alternating between gentle motions, and rushed strokes. “I _always_  get what I want, Sebastian. I will make you give me his whereabouts.”

His hands ball into fists, as he pushes his hips backwards with each harsh thrust. “And if I do? What do I get in return?”

Their hips stop moving. Undertaker speaks directly into his ear, “Know that I will, from this day forward, always have your back. Should you find yourself in another compromising situation like this one, I will be but a moment away to help you out of your predicament.”

“So, a truce?” Sebastian tries to move his hips, but the man holds him steady. “We form an alliance? Do we split the share for the boy?”

“70/30.”

“50/50.”

“60/40.”

“Fine.” Sebastian gives in, the bitter taste of defeat on his tongue. “You have a deal.”

“And you, Sebastian, have yourself one orgasm.” Undertaker cackles near his ear.

The thumb is removed from the tip of his cock, sending a wave of relief through Sebastian’s body. He bucks his hips backwards, moaning loud as he feels Undertaker pump harder into him. Now that the deed has been done, why can’t he give into these sins of the flesh? He tugs on his restraints, spreading his knees to drive Undertaker deeper into his body. Low chuckles fill his ear as their bodies move together. He tosses his head back, moaning loud as his orgasm hits him hard, whatever drug is running through his system making it feel extremely heightened. He feels the rush of Undertaker’s release deep inside of him, a low, satisfying groan falling from the man’s lips.

After a few moments, his knees buckle, his stomach landing on his own mess on the table beneath him. Undertaker grunts, as he’s forced out of Sebastian’s body by the sudden movement. Black fingernails undo the restraints on his wrists, freeing him from his bindings. Sebastian sighs, flexing his wrists, the blood rushing back into his hands.

He feels Undertaker move off of his body, hearing his feet thud onto the floor. “So, now what?” He tilts his head, his bangs covering the left side of his face, one maroon eye visible.

“We get dressed, and go take care of the boy.”

Sebastian closes his eyes, and nods. “Very well.”

Slipping his pants back on his body, he winces as the seared flesh on his side puckers. “Need me to bandage your wound?” Undertaker cackles, a ball of cheer now that Sebastian had been effectively broken.

“No. I’ll be fine.” He buttons up his shirt, wincing a little. “You know the mark isn’t supposed to be killed. He’s just supposed to be transported to a destination.”

“I know.” Undertaker grins, pushing some of the hair off of his face.

“We’re finishing this job together?”

“We are.” The other man nods.

“Then, are you ready?” He stands up, all business once more.

The grin on his assailant’s face has yet to disappear. “I am.” He extinguishes the fire. “Oh, Mr. Michaelis?”

“What.” He walks over to the door, wanting to distance himself from this failure. The sooner, the better.

Undertaker walks past him. “If it’s any consolation, Mr. Knox put up a fight, just as you did.”

He sighs, pushing the bangs off of his face. “Let’s just get this job over with.”

They walk out together, Sebastian getting into the passenger seat of Undertaker’s car. Looking out the window, he watches the night sky, feeling absolutely disgusting. Now he was in debt to this man for the rest of his career.

Maybe it is time to find a new vocation in life. One where torture isn’t a requirement of the job. Like, becoming a teacher. His eyes glaze over, still feeling the effects of the rohypnol in his system. Yes, maybe it was time for a new career path.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Bet I can make you come without ever touching your cock.”

* * *

Eyes blink, adjusting to the dimly lit room, the glow of a few candles steadily burning providing the only source of light. Sebastian groans, upset that he’s back in another compromising situation, but this time - this time, there’s no hot poker touching his skin. He turns his head to the left, and then to the right. He’s alone. Breathing a sigh of relief, he closes his eyes and tries to pinpoint just where he could be. Running through the last thing that he had experienced, it suddenly comes back to him. His heartbeat begins to accelerate, no longer worried about where he possibly could be. Instead, he becomes a little bit upset, for waking up in this manner must be some sick joke. Which, all things considered, he should have expected. He takes a deep breath, and speaks low, his voice cracking from disuse.

“I know you’re here, Undertaker.”

Staccato laughter fills the room, his heart pounding hard in his chest. Bastard.

***

_There’s too many of them_. He looks at the contract he’s supposed to take care of. Sebastian Michaelis, one of the finest assassins in the business, has been sent on a mission that should have been child’s play. By the book, no muss no fuss. He ducks behind a wall, trying to figure out the best plan of attack that does not involve him getting hurt, or worse - killed. Each scenario plays through his mind, none of them ending the way they should. His target was supposed to have been alone right now. That’s what the file had said. Why the sudden change in habit? Perhaps the mark knew he was a target, and this was a way to buy himself some time.

Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulls his phone out. He walks away from the area, keeping to the shadows as he scrolls through his contacts. When he gets to twenty-third letter in the alphabet, he scrolls down to the number he really does not want to call. But, given their last exchange, he had been told that _he_  would always have his back, should he ever need it. And right now, as loathe as he was to admit it, he needed his help.

He holds the phone up to his ear, and listens to it ring twice. The person picks up on the third ring, Sebastian unsure if the surprise in his voice is genuine, or an act. “Oh? Sebastian? Is that you?”

“Yes.” He tries to keep his voice polite, not wanting to come across as pissed off, even though he can feel the anger pumping through his veins. This man just irritates him. He hates that he has to do this, but when it comes to his survival, he will do anything he can to ensure he stays alive. “Is that offer still good?”

“Offer?” The man on the other line asks. “What offer? Oh! You need my help!” Laughter rings out, Sebastian covering the earpiece as he holds it away from his own ear, the laughter almost deafening. “Is that why you’re calling?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he nods his head. “Why else would I call you?”

“I don’t know, perhaps you were fancying a good fuck.” More cackles come from the man’s mouth, making the assassin wince.

Sebastian looks over at where the mark is. “How fast can you get to 125 Circus Lane?”

“In a bit of a jam? Should I bring some scones with me?” The man replies, after the giggles die down. “Get it? Scones and jam?”

“If your offer is still good, then get here as fast as you can. If it’s not, then fine. Just say so.” His temper begins to get the best of him.

“Be there soon~. Try not to get shot before I get there. I’ll be sure to drive the hearse, to bring your coffin with me, hmm~?” More chuckles leave a sour taste in Sebastian’s mouth.

He hangs up, not bothering to say a goodbye to the man. He keeps to the shadows, and makes his way back towards his target, hoping that whatever his lifeline is going to show up with will help the situation. Otherwise, he is going to lose a great deal of money, and he does not want that at all.

Fifteen minutes later, Sebastian hears light footsteps behind him. He whips around, and sees the man he called to come help him. “Thought you weren’t going to show.” He admits, relief flooding through him when he sees that the cavalry has arrived.

“Now, now, Mr. Michaelis. I did say that I will always have your back.” Undertaker pulls out a gun with a silencer on it, dressed in black slacks and black turtleneck. An unspoken uniform among the assassins, Sebastian also dressed in similar garments. “How many are there? How many were in your original mark?”

“One. And now there are a total of ten.”

“Hooooooo boy.” Undertaker shakes his head. “So, what’s your plan?”

“To not die.”

“A good plan. Even though, I did bring that coffin like I said would.” He winks.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Enough. Let’s just take them out.”

“Party pooper.”

Even though the nine other men had no marks on them, they could not allow any of them to live. It would be bad business, if one of them confessed to the cops who had shot up their friends. Both men had been in agreement on that matter, agreeing with just a quick look after Sebastian had put a bullet in the mark’s head. He drops the empty magazine into the palm of his hand, the gun warming his gloved hands.

The job finished, Sebastian holsters his gun and turns to give his thanks to the man who came to his rescue. He stops mid-turn, eyes widening as a syringe pushes into the side of his neck.

“Sorry, Sebastian - it’s just easier if you go to sleep now.” His eyelids become heavy, barely hearing Undertaker cackling, as his body begins to go limp. His eyelids close, and darkness surrounds him, sending him into unconsciousness..

***

His head hangs low, groaning when he tries to move his hands, but finds that they are bound. He’s hung up on a hook by his bound hands, his feet firmly planted on the floor. “What’s the meaning of this?” He growls, this predicament something he had not anticipated.

“What’s the meaning of what, Mr. Michaelis?” Undertaker’s voice is full of mirth. “Maybe the better question you should be asking yourself is why you’re completely naked.”

He looks down, his eyes widening when he sees that all of his clothes are gone. “H-How?” He clears his throat, swallowing what little spit is left in his mouth.

“I have hands, you know. They work quite well to take off clothes off of bodies.” Undertaker laughs, long grey hair swaying with his chortles.

Maroon eyes narrow. “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

“How did I make this happen? Surely you remember the needle, hmm?” Undertaker moves close to him. “Want to make a bet?”

“A bet?” Sebastian scoffs. “Why the hell would I make a bet with you?”

“Because, I will let you go if you win.”

Sighing, he sees no way out of this. “Why not just let me go without said bet? You said I could call you, and you would have my back. If that isn’t the truth, then why did _you_  suggest it?”

“I never imagined you would take me up on the offer. You, Sebastian Michaelis, who is more than capable of taking out ten men.”

Sebastian looks into Undertaker’s yellow-green eyes. “Fine. What’s the bet?”

“Bet I can make you come without ever touching your cock.” Undertaker wiggles his eyebrows, a smirk on his face.

He snorts. “You’re on.”

Undertaker smiles, and walks over to the wall, leaning against it. “Don’t you want to know how I plan on doing that? Or what I will get if I win the bet?”

“No, because I know you won’t be able to.” Sebastian states, voice indifferent. He doesn’t care to listen to this man any further. “Now, will you untie my-”

The words die on his tongue as he starts to moan, pleasure assaulting his body in a sudden rush. He looks down at his body, his cock growing to full thickness. He groans, the intense pleasure not stopping, as he spreads his legs apart. That’s when he feels it.

There’s something inside of him, and it’s vibrating. The intensity of the vibration is low, and he wonders how he didn’t feel it when he first woke up. Whatever is inside him is filling him completely, and it feels….good. _Fuck_. He lifts his head, trying not to moan when he shifts his body, the vibrator moving to a different angle, feeling even better than before. _I’m so fucked_.

“W-What’s your game?” He groans, his voice sounding pathetic to his own ears. His cock begins to throb, the vibrator beginning to vibrate stronger.

Undertaker holds up a small remote in his hand, a pleased smirk on his lips. “What’s my game, Mr. Michaelis? Well, I do rather enjoy listening to your moans, after you let me hear them the last time we were together.” His fingers twist the knob on the remote, increasing the speed of the vibrator.

Biting down hard on his lips, Sebastian wills himself to not make any noise. He will not give this man the satisfaction. Without realizing it, he starts to roll his hips, spreading his feet further apart as the vibrator begins to inch further up his rectum. The tip strikes his prostate, lips part as a loud moan sounds from his mouth, Sebastian tossing his head back as he juts his hips forward.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Undertaker’s chuckles lose their mirth, replaced by seductive tones. “Don’t be ashamed to admit it.”

His neck muscles tense, as he keeps his head back, his cock aching to rub against something, _anything_. “I will not give you that enjoyment.” He grits his teeth, but fails to keep his mouth closed, another loud moan spilling from his lips.

“Your moans are enjoyment enough, Sebastian.” Undertaker speaks into his ear. “Maybe I should turn the setting up another notch?”

“NO.” He shakes his head, moaning as the tip of the vibrator continues to press against that one particular spot. His arousal throbs hard, opaque liquid starting to secrete from the tip. He knows he’s close, and if the man turns up the setting, he will lose the bet. “D-Don’t.”

“That sounds like you want me to~” Warm breath caresses the shell of his ear.

The remote is placed in front of his face, Sebastian’s eyes straining to see just what setting it’s on. His vision won’t focus, each vibration sending intense spikes of desire and need through his body. He hears Undertaker twist the knob, eyes shutting tight as he starts to moan, helpless to the pleasure the vibrator is giving to him. His voice cracks with each moan, the sounds of a broken man submitting to the wiles of Undertaker.

“G-Gonna…” He whispers, knowing full well that the man can hear him.

“Let me win the bet?” Undertaker laughs low, twisting the knob to the highest setting. His voice remains low, as he continues to speak. “Do it, Sebastian. Give into me.”

Tossing his head back a second time, Sebastian screams loud, the rush of his orgasm spreading throughout his body as he starts to come hard. His cock throbs with each squirt of his release, the vibrator rattling his inner walls. The toy prolongs his orgasm, making his release neverending. He hears Undertaker moan, and glances to his left to see if he’s still standing there, barely able to move his body. When he sees the wall, he glances downwards, releasing another low moan.

Undertaker is on his knees, swallowing whatever he can collect from Sebastian’s release, milky strands of fluid covering his chin and cheeks. The man licks his lips, a wicked smile on his face. “Couldn’t help myself. I rather fancied a taste.” He wipes the cum off of him with his fingers, licking each digit clean with a flick of his tongue.

Sebastian’s spent cock hangs limp, shoulders beginning to ache with the strain of being bound. “Untie me.”

Hands pull his arms down. Undertaker reaches behind him, and pulls the vibrator out of him gently, Sebastian gasping with relief when it’s removed. His wrists are untied last, Sebastian sinking to his knees, rubbing his wrists as he pants hard. “Am I free to leave now?”

“You are.” Undertaker nods his head. “Your clothes are on the chair over there.” He points to a spot behind him. “Your car is also out front.”

He rests on his knees, and pushes his black bangs off of his forehead. “Was this your plan the entire time, Undertaker?”

“Was what?” He grins, walking over to the closed door.

“My punishment for needing your assistance.”

A loud cackle rings out. “Of course not. This was just something fun for me. Thanks for letting me win the bet.”

“What did you win?” Sebastian tilts his head, unsure what the man is so pleased about.

“A taste of your delicious cum.” He winks. “Do be careful on your next assignment, Mr. Michaelis. I would hate to have to take over your jobs. I rather like still being on the outside.” Another loud laugh rings out, before the man leaves him alone in the room.

Sebastian stands up, and gets dressed, making sure that all his personal effects are where they should be. His gun and holster are there. He leaves the room, and finds his way out, not at all sure where they are. He sees his car is parked out front, just as Undertaker has stated it would be. He turns it on, and sits there for a few minutes, trying to work out just what had transpired.

He pulls away from the curb, shifting a little in his seat, his ass still throbbing, feeling like the vibrator is still seated inside of him. From now on, he will just deal with the consequences of a larger job, even if it means his life. He won’t be calling for this man’s help again. From now on, he will just deal with the consequences of a larger job, even if it means his life.

Except, the vision of Undertaker’s cheeks stained with his release makes his pants grow a little tight. Maybe asking for help again might not be such a bad idea. Pushing the thoughts away, he looks out at the road, and heads back home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Kiss me or kill me, the choice is yours.”

* * *

Stepping into the elevator, Sebastian makes his way to the back of the enclosed box after pressing the button for the 37th floor, pressing his back against the wall. An advertisement for the hotel plays on two different video screens, situated above the floor numbers, as if the patrons in the elevator did not know where they were at. A few people walk in after him, filling the lift up, people chattering loudly, almost everyone in the lift somewhat inebriated. Maybe that’s why the video is playing, he thinks to himself. He pushes the sunglasses that are slipping off of his nose back into their proper place, then pushes the sleeves of his black turtleneck up onto his forearms.

“Mister?? Aren’t you hot?” A girl asks him, her breath smelling of something sweet and alcoholic. No doubt a daiquiri, or perhaps a frozen margarita. The long yard glass in her hand could be one of those, her mouth gravitating to the straw. “You’re really hot!”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m quite comfortable.” He replies, silently wishing that the doors would close before he takes drastic measures to end this conversation. “I appreciate your concern.” He keeps his voice below the other conversations happening around him.

“But, it’s like 110 outside. How can you not be hot?” She asks, taking a long sip on her drink.

Sebastian closes his eyes, and counts to ten, ignoring how heavy the knife in his pocket feels. Just a quick stab, and no one would be the wiser if this girl with curiosity rivaling that of a cat suddenly stops speaking. It is his own fault for choosing this destination after his last mark had been taken care of. He knew he could do with some r&r, but perhaps picking Sin City as his place to decompress might have been a bad decision.

The girl goes back to talking to her friend, no longer waiting for his answer. Good. He puts both of his hands into his pockets, and watches the numbers ascend. People spill out, leaving him with only 3 other people in the cab on the 11th floor. When they arrive at the 21st floor, more people get out, and a single man gets in, wearing an outfit almost identical to the one he is currently wearing. Earrings line each ear, traveling up from the bottom to the top, long grey strands of hair tied messily in a bun on top of the man’s head. Sebastian feels his throat constrict, as the man slips into the elevator, paying him absolutely no mind. But he knows that cannot be the case. What are the odds that Undertaker would be at this particular hotel? He had told no one where he was going after his last job. For the rest of the world, he was off the grid for the next three days.

Arriving at the 30th floor, the last few people get off the elevator, leaving him alone with the fellow assassin. Deciding he needed to know if the man knew he was here, or if this was just a random happenstance, he clears his throat and speaks quietly. “I had no idea you were one for this city.”

Grey strands of hair fly, as the man darts his head to the side. Ah, the expression on the man’s face looks like one of genuine surprise, but perhaps he’s just a really good actor. “What are you doing here, Michaelis? Are you on this job too?”

Is there a mark in this hotel? That is surprising information to him. Sebastian shakes his head, a small smirk on his face. “Would you believe me if I told you I was here as a tourist?”

“That’s rich!” Loud laughter booms in the elevator. “You’re on vacation?” Undertaker joins him against the back wall of the elevator. “Last job that bad?”

He pushes the sunglasses he’s wearing up onto the top of his head, keeping his bangs off of his face with the makeshift headband. “Calling it a nightmare would be doing it a disservice.” Both men share a laugh. “I hope that your mark isn’t on the 37th floor.”

“It is not.” Undertaker turns to look at him. “Why? Is that the floor you’re on?”

The elevator dings on said floor. “It is. Room 37108.” He walks out of the elevator, and smiles at the man. “Good luck on your mark. Hope you get there before anyone else contracted on the job arrives. Who is it?”

“Aleister Chamber. Seems he’s upset the wrong people this time around.” They both knew this man had the reputation for pissing off the wrong circles. Looks like his time was finally up. “Be seeing you.” Undertaker smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, the elevator doors closing to return the lift to its ascent.

Sebastian makes his way to his room, happy to see his ‘do not disturb’ sign is still firmly in place. He walks into the suite, and sees the room is exactly as he had left it earlier in the afternoon, when he had first checked in. He walks over to his suitcase, and pulls out two bottles of merlot he had picked up in Italy two short weeks ago, and the wine key he’s tucked into a pair of socks. Quickly uncorking one bottle, he lets it breathe for a bit, as he heads over to the window, to look at the view below.

Sin City has its ups and downs, this view being one of the finer perks of the destination. He looks out, and sees the strip in all of its glory, cars lining both sides of the street, people walking together in clumps, dressed in all different sorts of attire. The sun is just dipping below the horizon, the signs illuminations coming to life with the indigo sky. He looks out across the way, and can see a couple having sex right against the window, the woman’s rather large breasts smashed against the glass, the male pounding hard into her. If he were at all turned on by such acts, he would be erect right now. But no, he doesn’t care too much for the female body, although he can appreciate it for what it is.

His eyes linger for a bit longer than they should on the two fucking like nobody’s watching them. Except, someone is. When he sees the woman climax for the second time during their session - no doubt the act of their lewd display fueling the desire within her body, he turns around and walks over to the bed, pressing the switch to close the sheer drapes. Hiding himself away from the rest of the debauchery no doubt happening floors above and below him. He grabs the small water glass and pours some merlot into it, and sits down on the edge of the bed. Bringing the glass to his lips, he’s about to take a sip when there’s a knock on his door.

Setting the drink down, he grabs his gun from his bag, attaching a silencer to it, before stepping towards the door. He looks out the peephole, and relaxes, but keeps the gun behind his back. Opening the door, he pokes his head out. “Can’t you read? It says ‘do not disturb.”

“You told me your room for a reason.” Undertaker has a knowing smile on his face. “Let me in, Michaelis.”

The man speaks the truth. He did slip out his room number on purpose. Keeping the gun behind his back, he steps to the side, unlatching the hook. He pulls the door back with his free hand, allowing Undertaker to enter his temporary residence.

“Whoa. Nice room.” The man walks in, Sebastian quickly putting the gun underneath a towel he left on the dresser. “Not as nice as Chamber’s room, but still nice.”

He walks over to the bottle of wine. “Care for some? I was just about to enjoy my first glass.” Sebastian nods towards the glass he had set down before answering the door. “It’s from 2002.”

“Sure, I’ll take a glass.” Picking up the bottle, he pours some into the second glass, and then hands it to him, wine sloshing up when he sees the man is standing directly behind him.

“You know, maybe you shouldn’t have invited me in here.” Undertaker takes the glass from his hand, their fingertips brushing as the glass changes hands. “You sure you can trust me?”

Snorting, he walks over to the table and picks up his glass of wine. “If you wanted to do something to me, in the elevator would have been your ideal time. If you plan on doing something right now, well, fine. Just let me enjoy this last glass of wine, if you don’t mind.” He raises is up. “Truce?”

Undertaker laughs, and raises up his glass. “Mine isn’t poisoned, is it, Bassy?”

“If you use that name again, it might become poisoned.” His eyes narrow. “Did you get your mark?”

Both men take a seat at the small dining table, if one were to call it that, sitting across from each other. “I did. Money’s already been deposited too. I love this job.”

“So, what are you doing here? Looking for a quick fuck to prolong the high?” Sebastian brings the glass up to his lips, sipping the wine. After a kill, there’s nothing quite like having sexual relations with another person. The endorphins you get from killing someone, coupled with the endorphins released during sex gives the body a natural high that cannot be replicated with narcotics. He meets the man’s yellow-green eyes over the rim of his glass, keeping his expression indifferent.

Undertaker takes a sip of his wine. “Well, considering the last couple of times we’ve been together, I’d say it might be time to not have to resort to drugs, or rescuing, hmm?”

“Are you worried that I won’t be able to get it up?” The question rolls off of his tongue before he can stop his mouth from verbalizing it. He’s already aroused, has been since the man walked into the room, but does not want him to know it. He’s right, though. This will be the first time that they’d just be enjoying each other without force/torture/etc.

A hand touches his knee, sliding up his thigh. “Oh, I know you can get it up, Michaelis.” A warm palm touches his semi-erect dick, rubbing it gently. “Just wondering if you’re ready to play with fire this evening. If you prefer to be inebriated, I can make that happen for you.”

“Inebriated how?” He flexes his cock, watching the man’s face for his reaction, and bites back a groan at the look Undertaker bestows upon him. “Do _you_  need to be under the influence to touch me?”

Fingers squeeze his girth with a teasing grip. “Michaelis, I’ve _always_  been sober with you.”

“Wish I could say the sa-aah-ame.” He leans his head back, those fingers now unzipping the fly of his slacks.

Cool fingers touch heated flesh. “So, are we in agreement, then? No drugs this evening? No ultimatums? Just two men, looking for some relief?”

“Do you expect me to say no when your hand is on my cock?” Sebastian spreads his legs apart, the hand dipping down further into his boxers. “Kiss me or kill me, the choice is yours.”

Lips touch his, bodies leaning towards one another, Undertaker answering him with a kiss. He pulls back, and looks into his eyes. “I expect an agreement from you.” Undertaker gives his girth a rough squeeze, forcing a sharp inhale from him, followed by a low moan. “So, how about it? And no getting that gun on the dresser. I’ll put my weapon far away too, so it’s just the two of us. No fear of death, hmm?”

“I don’t fear death.” He replies, moaning low, as the hand on him starts to pump him with gentle ease. “But yes, we have an agreement. Now, put your weapon with mine.”

Warmth leaves his girth, Undertaker taking his hand out of his pants. Sebastian stands up, and begins to get undressed. The assassin puts his gun and knife next to the towel Sebastian had hid his in, and begins to remove his clothes. Grabbing the small toiletry bag from his suitcase, he pulls a small bottle of lube and tosses it to Undertaker, who is just starting to pull his hair out of his messy bun.

“Keep it up.” He requests, watching the man catch the item. “Looks nice like that.”

He kneels on the bed, leaving enough room for the male to join him, situating himself on his hands and knees. “That anxious, are we, Michaelis?” Undertaker’s breath sends a shiver down his spine, as a wet finger begins to prod his entrance.

“It’s been a _very_  long week.” He bites back a moan as the finger pushes into him slowly. “Was going to find some random to do this with. This is much better.” He lowers his head, the moan escaping past his lips.

A second finger is pushed inside of him. “Do you know there is a mirror above the bed?”

“W-What?” Sebastian’s fingers dig into the soft fabric of the down comforter. “Mirror?”

“Seems like they think of everything in this town.” Undertaker adds a third finger, spreading him just right. “Would you rather be on your back, knowing that?”

Pushing his hips back, he impales himself on the man’s three fingers with a loud moan. “D-Don’t care….”

“I want to be on my back. Let me watch you ride my cock, while I stare up at your reflection.”

The demand makes Sebastian’s body grow warm. He nods his head fast, his cheeks heating up as he thinks about just what the other man is suggesting. He rolls his hips back, chasing after the three fingers that are pulled out of his ass with a slow maneuver. Undertaker lays down in the spot he was just in, settling himself so that his hips are just in the middle of the mirrored light above the bed. He debates about shutting the blackout curtains, but then decides that if someone is going to watch their act, when it’s not even against the window, more power to them.

His eyes are drawn to Undertaker’s girth, the man stroking his erection with a slickened hand. His mouth waters, body anxious to impale itself back onto his thickness. It’s been well over six months since this man helped him out of the jam he had been in, and after having had a taste of this man’s cock, no other cock seemed to satisfy him in the same manner. Even after a successful kill, his fuck buddy was only moderately fulfilling as the girth he’s about to take for a third time.

“What are you waiting for?” Undertaker asks, a smirk on his face. “You want it to spit at you?”

Chuckling low, Sebastian straddles the man’s hips, teasing his entrance with the tip of Undertaker’s cock. “Not until it’s inside of me, thanks.” He ignores wanting to look up, and instead settles himself over Undertaker’s body, placing his hands on either side of his head. Lifting himself up, he begins to sink down on to his cock, the combination of his prep and the lubed girth makes it slip into him easily, both men letting out appreciative moans.

He closes his eyes, and places his hands on Undertaker’s chest, rolling his hips just a touch to get the angle of the man’s girth inside of him just right. He leans his head back, moaning low as he feels it fill him completely, pleased to be in the position of control this evening. His nails dig into Undertaker’s pectorals, gently scratching the epidermis as he rolls his hips more, his body pulling more of the man’s thick cock into his body.

“Gotta say, this angle is doing wonders for my libido, Michaelis.” Undertaker’s hands grip his hips, as he begins to control Sebastian’s rhythm. “If only you could see the view I’m seeing right now.”

“I’m good, thanks.” He groans low, the tip of Undertaker’s cock striking his bundle of nerves in the most eloquent way. “A-Again.” He half-moans, half-whispers, ashamed to be so needy in the hands of a man he knows can kill him without any hesitation, if the price was right.

The tip of his cock strikes him in the same spot a second time, a low satisfied moan escaping past his lips. “That where you want it? Right,” Undertaker strikes the same spot again, “there?”

“YES!” Sebastian moans loud, bangs clinging to his face as he starts to gyrate on the man’s girth. His eyes fly open when he feels Undertaker’s hand take hold of his cock, his other hand holding onto his hip firmly, as he drives his dick harder into him. “Nnngh…” He looks into his yellow-green eyes, unable to tear himself away as they stare at one another.

Undertaker’s eyes close first, his hand pumping Sebastian opposite of what his hips are doing. Sebastian starts to feel his body get close to its release, knowing that his orgasm will be soon taking over his whole self. He begins to rock faster, nails digging into Undertaker’s chest, as he rides his cock hard, that taste of euphoria sitting right underneath him. He tosses his head back with a loud moan, his orgasm hitting him hard, Undertaker’s hand pumping him through his release, making the tip of his oversensitive cock start to tingle. He lets out a louder moan when he feels the man release deep inside of him, that rush of his cum hitting his inner walls makes him go temporarily blind, pushing him towards a higher peak, only to bring him crashing down hard, his body going completely numb.

Without realizing it, he’s laying on top of Undertaker, panting hard, the stickiness of his release coating both of their chests now. After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, lifting himself off of Undertaker’s body. He drops to the side, laying next to him, regaining control of his breath. He looks up, and sees both of their spent cocks in the middle of the mirror, sweat clinging to their bodies. He feels ridiculous, but doesn’t really care. After the week he’s had, this is _exactly_  what he has needed.

“Want your wine?” Sebastian asks, sitting up. “Or is this just a ‘wham-bam’ thing this evening?”

“Do you really want me to stick around until morning, so we can go downstairs, pretending to be some sort of normal, gay couple on vacation?” Undertaker asks, sitting up on his arms, a smirk on his face.

“Well, when you put it that way.” He gets out of bed, and walks over to where he’s left his wine, and grabs Undertaker’s glass as an afterthought. He hands it to him, and takes a sip from his glass. “Yes, perhaps you should go.”

“That’s what I thought.” Undertaker lifts his glass in a silent toast, and then swallows half in one gulp. “Good choice on the wine, Michaelis.”

“I hope there are no more marks here?” He sits back down on the bed, watching Undertaker stand up.

The older man gets dressed, and shakes his head, grey tendrils of hair starting to spill out of his messy bun. “No. Chamber was the only one I was sent a contract for. And don’t worry - your secret is safe with me. How long are you in town for?”

“Until Tuesday.” He replies, taking another sip of his wine. “So, whatever jobs come between now and then, you’ll be on your own.” He winks, enjoying the loud, booming laugh that leaves Undertaker’s mouth.

“Good to know.” The man slips on his turtleneck, and fixes his belt. “Well, enjoy your holiday. Wish I could take one.”

Chuckling, Sebastian leans on his elbow on the bed, holding onto his glass with his other hand. “Well, if you do find some time off, you can ring me, and I can repay the favor you’ve done for me this evening.”

“Careful, Michaelis. I may take you up on that offer.” Undertaker laughs again, holstering his gun behind his back. “You stay safe. Or, you know, I suppose I’m a phone call away if you really get caught in another jam.”

“I’ll manage.” He replies, but knows that if it does come down to it, he can rely on Undertaker to help him out again, and vice versa.

The door opens and closes, the other assassin slipping out of his room just as he would on a job, no pleasantries or goodbyes said. It didn’t matter between the two of them, and Sebastian knows this. He gets up and grabs the bottle of wine, and heads into the bathroom. A nice, warm bath sounds rather nice right now. Pouring more wine into his glass, he starts the water for the tub, and turns the tv that’s situated in the mirror on, and gets his towels all set up. He is on holiday, after all. Might as well enjoy it while he can.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “I’m going to make you tremble.”

* * *

The cool night air kisses Sebastian’s legs, as he approaches a rather ornate house. His black trenchcoat sways with each step, covering the length of his body, hiding what’s beneath. Heels clack on the brick pathway that leads to the ruby door, the porch light turning on thanks to its sensor. With his head held high, he stands in front of the door, his index finger poised at the circular button. His gloved fingertip pushes it in for a few seconds, before stepping away from the door.

“Coming~!”

He keeps his head up, waiting patiently for the door to open. When it does, he stares at the fellow assassin, lips in a thin line, taking in the man’s appearance. Long grey hair is pulled up in a half-ponytail, the sleeves of his black turtleneck are pushed up his elbows. There’s a glass of what Sebastian assumes is bourbon, as he knows the man well enough to know his favorite liquor. Undertaker leans against the door, a small smirk on his face.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to show up, Michaelis.”

“A bet is a bet.” He replies, setting his lips back into a thin grimace. “May I come in? It’s a bit…drafty.”

A loud cackle issues forth from the older man’s mouth. “Ah, where are my manners? Yes, come in.” He steps away, and holds the door open to him. “Welcome to my home.”

“Quite normal.” Sebastian remarks, taking a quick look around. He doesn’t bother to remove his coat, and his fellow assassin does not ask for it. “Do you have dogs as well?”

Another sharp laugh leaves the other man’s mouth. “With our line of work? No, no dogs. No pets at all.” Undertaker twitters. “Care for a drink, Michaelis?”

“I’ll have what you’re having.” He looks at the glass in his hand. “Bourbon?”

“Scotch, actually. Would you care for bourbon instead?” Undertaker leads him down a long hallway, and enters what looks to be a study.

He follows him into the room, his heels continuing to clack against the floor. “Either is fine.” Sebastian looks around the room, taking in the wall of books, and the baby grand piano that sits to the side, near the window, the backyard barely visible in the limited light. “You play?”

“It’s a good stress release.” Undertaker pours some liquid into a glass, and hands it to him. “Here you go.” He pours more into his own glass, and holds it up to him. “Cheers. To….losing?” He giggles with laughter, clinking their glasses together before Sebastian can object to the toast.

Taking a sip of the amber liquid, he gives an appreciative nod. “Smooth.” He remarks, enjoying the burn of the liquor as it slides down his throat. “I still prefer bourbon.”

“And I prefer if you take your coat off, but you don’t see me antagonizing you, do you?” Undertaker winks, and heads over to the piano. “So, what’s it going to be, Michaelis? Am I going to have to beg you to take it off? Or will you just do it?”

He drains what’s left in his glass, and sets it down on the table. “Well, you’re the one that made the bet. What do _you_  want?”

“Take the coat off.” The mirth in Undertaker’s voice disappears, and is replaced by something else entirely. “Now.”

Sebastian lifts his right hand up, and begins to tug his gloves off with his teeth. He sees Undertaker straddle the piano bench, leaning against the top of the closed lid, a serene look in his eyes. He takes off the other one in the same manner, keeping his face blank. Black fingernails seem to shine in the soft light in the study. His hand reaches for the belt of his trenchcoat, and begins to tug on it.

“Wait.” Undertaker holds up his hand. “Not in here.” He stands up from the bench, leaving his drink behind. “This way.” He pulls a book off the shelf, which reveals a hidden door, the bookshelf swinging open.

“How very James Bond of you.” Sebastian’s lips curl up into a smile, trailing behind him.

They walk through a small corridor, then come to a rather large bedroom. A queen-sized bed sits in the middle, a bench at the foot of it, where Undertaker decides to take a seat. Sebastian closes the hidden door behind him, sealing the two of them in the room together; alone. Undertaker leans back on the bench, his back hitting the bed, grey hair spilling over both of his shoulders.

“Now, then. Where were we?” He asks, the cordialness returning, a hint of a smile on the man’s lips.

Fingers tug on the belt of his trenchcoat, loosening the knot that’s been tied tight. Sebastian pulls one end, the belt pulling apart. He unbuttons the double-breast first, before undoing the button at his waist. Keeping his face neutral, Sebastian pulls the lapels of his trenchcoat open, revealing what is underneath, keeping his chin turned up.

Undertaker lets out out a low whistle. “I didn’t think you’d do it, Michaelis. Bravo.” He raises his glass, and takes a long sip.

“A bet is a bet, Undertaker.” He replies, standing perfectly still. “Shall I remove the coat?”

“Absolutely.”

The last job the two had been on, Undertaker had made a bet that he would get the mark first. Confident that he would win the bet, Sebastian had taken the bait. Two hours after the bet was made, Undertaker had silenced the target, sealing the deal for Sebastian’s current predicament. There had only been one condition to their arrangement - that it happened in the privacy of one of their homes. Undertaker, taking pity on him, had offered to allow the bet to take place in his home, which had surprised Sebastian. It wasn’t like they told other assassins where they lived, as it was bad for the job. Either Undertaker was an idiot, or their amorous play meant something to the older man. Not that Sebastian had any objections to either possibility, as he was becoming more fond of the man, the more the two wound up on the same assignments.

He lifts his left shoulder, sliding the coat off with the shrug. He then does the same with his other shoulder, the garment falling down his body, arms now trapped by the fabric. He hears Undertaker moan low, but does not raise his eyes to see what the man’s face looks like. Sebastian’s cheeks burn - part from humiliation, part from an aching desire deep within him - as he lowers his arms, the coat falling off of his lithe frame, pooling around his ankles. He kicks the garment away, and stands with his back straight, black bangs framing his face.

“When you agreed to this bet, I had no idea you would actually do as I requested.” Undertaker nods appreciatively. “Turn around for me?”

Doing as instructed, Sebastian makes a 180 degree turn, his back now facing the older man. He does not look down, but instead, keeps his eyes on the wall in front of him. He hears another appreciative moan from the male, which makes the hairs on his arms stand up.

The sound of a shutter going off makes him snap his head over his shoulder, maroon eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry. It won’t go anywhere.” Undertaker holds up his phone. “This is just for me. Not even my work phone.”

“As if I could stop you,” Sebastian tries not to sigh, but it is difficult.

“Can you blame me? Have you seen the way you look right now?” Undertaker points to the right side of the room. “Take a look in that mirror.”

Knowing that it would be useless to argue with the man, he walks over to the standing mirror, heels continuing to clack on the floor. He looks at his reflection, and feels the heat return to his cheeks. He’s not necessarily embarrassed; more like he’s a bit emboldened by the outfit he had been dared to wear.

High heeled boots come up to just above his knee, the point of his heel a defined sharp point. Black fishnet stockings cover his thighs, a garter belt keeping them held in place. Black satin panties cover his bits, but just barely. The tip of his cock peeks out from the top of his panties, glistening with slick pre-cum. On his upper half is a black silk corset, his nipples poking out of the top. Panels of lace decorate both sides of the corset, the silk tie in the back knotted as best as he could tie it on his own.

The warmth of Undertaker’s body sends a shiver through his body, as the man steps closer to where Sebastian is standing. Hands touch the silk ties on the back, undoing the knot, loosening the corset. “Breathe in,” Undertaker speaks low into his ear.

Breathing in deep, he feels the corset become tight, Undertaker pulling on the tie. He groans softly, not at all put out at how tight it has become. He looks at the mirror, and sees yellow-green eyes staring at him, an expression on Undertaker’s face that he can’t quite read. He licks his lips, his body more than aroused by his current state of dress. He looks _good_ , and he knows it. He can feel Undertaker’s approval on his backside, the older man not shying away from the very apparent hard-on he has.

“Do you want me to stay like this?” Sebastian stares at the mirror. “Or should I take something off?”

Hands touch his sides. “I’ll let you know when it’s time to take things off.” Undertaker whispers into his ear, the cool touch of his breath forcing another soft moan from Sebastian’s throat. “I’m going to make you _tremble_.” 

He does tremble, pleasure shooting throughout his body. “Is this part of the bet?” He asks, leaning his head to the side, as Undertaker starts to kiss his neck with gentle kisses. 

“No, this is just me, admiring your beauty, Sebastian.”

He moans low, the sound his his name all too pleasant to his ears. “It was always your intention to win the bet, wasn’t it?” 

“I knew you would be able to kill the mark with no problem.” Undertaker drags his teeth against his pulsepoint, the tip of Sebastian’s cock throbbing with the touch. “I had to find a way to make this happen.”

“You could have just asked.” He pushes his hips backwards, delighting in the feel of Undertaker’s cock nestled between his buttocks. He feels the man place both of his hands on his hips, encouraging him to roll his hips more. “Mmmm….” Sebastian groans, his body aching to feel more of that girth that’s trapped behind its confines of clothing.

“Look at us,” Undertaker whispers, drawing Sebastian’s eyes back to the mirror. He can see the man’s hands on his hips, black tipped fingers guiding him to roll them more, the flushed head of his cock begging for its release from the satin panties. “Does this turn you on, Michaelis?”

Black fingernails touch the hem of his panties, Undertaker rubbing his finger across his swollen tip. “Immensely.” A low moan passes from Sebastian’s lips, eyes staring at Undertaker’s hands.

“Shall I pull these down now?” Undertaker tugs on the silk cloth. Sebastian nods his head, standing perfectly still, to allow the man to pull them down his thighs.

The garter belt stays in place on his hips, the silk panties now coming to rest on the top of his boots. Fingers brush over the holes on the stockings, as Undertaker slides his hands back up Sebastian’s body. He lifts up his foot, the silk garment sliding off. His eyes are drawn back to the mirror, Undertaker’s hand now touching his swollen cock. “More,” he groans low, pushing his girth into the man’s fist.

“Are you prepped, Sebastian?” Undertaker asks, using his free hand to undo the button of his pants.

“Wasn’t that your instruction?” He replies, groaning low as he tries to find friction in the man’s tight fist, eyes closing to feel more.

“Open your eyes.” Undertaker commands him. He obeys, and stares at the mirror, seeing the man’s cock now flexing next to his hipbone. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip, his hand itching to touch the man’s girth.

The older man turns him to face the wall, their sides now facing the mirror. He can see Undertaker’s cock, eyes glued to his girth as it moves to be settled between his buttocks. “Bend over, and spread yourself for me.” Undertaker requests in a hushed tone.

Sebastian bends at the waist, feet spreading apart as he reaches back to spread his cheeks for the man standing behind him. He feels the tip of Undertaker’s cock touch his entrance, making him cry out in need. How had he stooped to this level for this man? This enemy of his, turned into an on-again, off-again lover. This should not work as well as it does, but given their history, it’s difficult to not see how good it is between the two of them. In the nature of their business, it is tough to find an ally, let alone one that can act as a companion.

He turns his head to the side, and watches as Undertaker pushes his hips forward, his cock sinking into Sebastian’s prepped body in one fluid movement. Both men moan at the sudden penetration, Sebastian keeping his hands on his cheeks, for the man had not told him he could remove them.

“H-Hold onto your ankles, Michaelis.” The older man instructs, which Sebastian is only too happy to obey.

Hands lock around both his ankles, and he feels the man drive deep into his body. He cries out, keeping his head between his legs, just enjoying how good it feels to have Undertaker back inside of him in such a manner. Their last tryst in Vegas had been rather enjoyable, but that had occurred four months ago. And Sebastian had not had the time, nor the energy, to find another quick fuck. Part of the reason he took the bet in the first place was that he had hoped that it would end up with the two of them in this exact situation.

“Why aren’t you looking?” Undertaker’s words come out ragged, as the man thrusts deeper into his body. “Watch as my cock slips inside of you, Sebastian.”

Eyes lock onto the mirror, Sebastian watching the thick member drive deep into him with a harsh thrust. Undertaker pulls his hips back, until just the tip is left inside, before driving his hips forward hard. Fingers tease the exposed part of his thigh, Undertaker’s black nailed fingers tugging on the garter straps. He screams out in pleasure, the corset on his upper body making it difficult to take deep breaths. Pushing his hips back, he takes more of the man inside of him, both crying out at the deep penetration.

Sebastian looks away, moaning low as he feels Undertaker’s thrusts become more erratic. A hand touches his cock, making him mewl low. He keeps his hands locked around his ankles, as Undertaker drives harshly into his body, the smooth movements of his hand on Sebastian’s cock a stark contrast, but a welcomed one. Before he knows what’s happening, his orgasm hits him hard, his release taking over his entire body. He feels Undertaker, before he hears him grunt, his release shooting deep inside of him, making him feel exquisitely full.

Letting go of his ankles, he tries not to collapse to his knees. Undertaker guides him over to the bed, where they fall onto the mattress together, the lace of his corset coming loose, allowing him to finally breathe deep. He hears Undertaker laugh, making him wonder.

“Just what the hell is so damn funny?” He asks, trying to not sound as hurt as he feels.

“Your expression.” Undertaker chuckles, poking his cheek with his finger. “You look so sour right now. Are you really that put out about me coming inside of you?”

“What? No, not at all.” Sebastian shakes his head. His legs hang over the side, the heels of his boots touching the floor. “I just don’t know if you want my feet up on the bed or not.”

A loud laugh leaves the man’s throat. “Take them off, Sebastian, and lay with me properly.”

Fingers reach down to unzip the boots. A small kick of each leg sends the boots sailing across the room, landing on the floor. He lays down on the bed next to the older man, a small smile on his face.

“What are the other conditions of me losing the bet?” He asks, knowing that it probably won’t matter in the end. If he had just kept his mouth shut, maybe he could have gotten out of the house. “That’s it, correct?”

Undertaker’s low chuckle makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “That depends, MIchaelis. You got somewhere to be this evening?”

“No.” He answers with a resigned sigh. But, his lips contain the hint of a smile.

“Well, then…”

***

His trenchcoat is tied tight around his midsection, his fishnet clad feet cold on the pavement. He tosses his boots into his car, before he looks over at Undertaker, who is standing on the sidewalk, a smile on his face. The sky is changing from indigo to violet, the sun making its way back up into the sky, a new day dawning.

“I get to make the next bet.” Sebastian says, a smirk on his face.

“Very well. But, you know you’re just going to lose, Michaelis.” Undertaker laughs, waving his hand as Sebastian gets into the car.

He puts the key into the ignition, and drives away. If he can make the bet the next time the two bump into each other, he just might lose on purpose. Undertaker knows him so well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Go on, lick my cum off the floor.”
> 
> Two new players enter this AU.

* * *

The City of Love, or L’Amour as the native tongue would say, is a city that hardly sleeps. There are areas where the lights are turned off, but behind closed doors there are people making deals - good and bad, sanctimonious and humble. Deals done in the dark, deals done under the bright fluorescent lights. Illegal gambling draws the likes of people that have no business being in the profession that they’re in. Always the glamorous crowd congregate at soirees such as the one being held in an old hotel off the Rue Montorgueil; women dressed in evening dresses with jewels bedazzling their necks, ears and wrists - men dressed in three piece tuxedos. Some men choose the traditional bowtie, others choose to wear a straight neck tie, a few having knots at their throat that could not possibly have been done by their own hand, as these men don’t take the time to learn such an honored tradition. No, they have their tailor (or the like) to do it for them, and simply just tighten the knot.

Sebastian Michaelis tries not to look as bored as he feels, hair slicked back, black tailcoat swaying as he heads towards the bar. Unlike the others at this event, he knows how to tie a tie, his dark grey paisley tie in a Cape knot, tucked behind his light grey vest. His mark is a high roller, having traveled over from the good old Les États-Unis to be at this party being thrown by some rich prick. Or, perhaps the person that’s throwing this soiree is not a prick as he presumes, but could be someone that has an interest in showing people a good time. Picking up a glass of complimentary Dom Perignon, he places it to his lips, enjoying the sweet taste of the effervescent liquid, as it tickles his tongue.

Any second, and the item he’s planted should go off, allowing him to take necessary action on his mark. He glances at one of the clocks on the wall, and watches the time tick past when the diversion should have happened. He moves away from the wall, heading towards the main room, when he feels a hand tap his shoulder. Turning around, his eyes narrow, free hand reaching under his coat to grab his hidden gun.

“Why does it not surprise me to find you here this evening, Michaelis?” An unmistakable laugh leaves the man’s mouth, as Sebastian tries to piece together just why this man would be at this event. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Undertaker slips his arm through Sebastian’s, and begins to lead him towards the room where his mark is. “Was it you that left that nasty little smoke bomb?”

He finishes his glass, setting it down on a tray carried by a server walking by. “What are you doing here?” Keeping his voice casual, he looks around at his possible exits. He doesn’t bother to answer the second question, for he knows that his fellow assassin is quite aware that it was indeed himself who had placed it in the main hall.

“Answer my questions first, please.” They head past the security guards, dressed in tuxedos for the evening. There is no mistaking them for what they are though - brute force.

The assassin looks around the high rollers room, and sees more people playing in here than he expects. “Well, if you must know, I’m here for business.”

“You must be, because you sure weren’t on the guest list.” Undertaker starts to cackle, no one paying him any mind.

Finding it strange that no one is bothering to look their way, his eyebrow raises up. “Just what exactly are _you_  doing here, Undertaker?”

“This is _my_  party, Michaelis.” Sebastian’s maroon eyes widen at the information. “These are _my_  friends, so if you’re here to kill one of them, I must let you know that I will make it impossible for you to follow through.”

Still processing the news, he takes the cocktail that’s offered to him by one of the servers, and drinks it all in one swallow. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly.” He ignores the burn of the liquor, and instead tries to piece together what Undertaker has just said. “Did you say that you’re working this event too?”

“No, Michaelis.” White gloved fingers touch his wrist. “I am the host this evening, so if you’re here for a mark, I must request that you tell me who it is, as I do not wish any of my friends to perish this evening.”

His eyes narrow, as he steps away from his fellow assassin. “Preposterous. You’re not someone that’s into this sort of thing. How would you even be able to afford something like this?”

“I will ask you one last time, Michaelis.” There is no more light-heartedness to Undertaker’s tone. “Who is your mark.”

Sebastian looks around the room, trying to find the man he had flown across the pond to take care of. He sees him at the table furthest from the entrance, leaning over to converse with another male who appears to be quite handsome. His mark is not difficult to miss, as it appears he’s one of the more attractive men in the room, the small mole next to the corner of his left eye making it fairly easy to spot him. Just as he’s about to say something to his fellow assassin, his mark looks up, and looks over at them.

“‘Taker, I hope you’re here to bring us some more alcohol!” The man calls out, a pleasant smile on his face. “I do believe that Dee has drunk what has been allotted to our table.”

He looks over at Undertaker, who is no longer by his side, but is now making his way towards the table where Vincent Phantomhive sits. “My dear Vincent, what have I told you? If you want it, all you must do is ask.” He cackles, motioning for one of the servers to go over to their table, where a friendly (albeit high stakes) game of craps is being played.

“Then consider this my request for more booze.” Vincent replies. Sebastian notices the way the two talk to one another, and starts to feel a little uncomfortable. He stays in his spot, though, because he did not answer the man, and he no doubt knows that Undertaker will soon be back by his side, after dealing with his mark.

“And more sandwiches.” The attractive male next to Vincent states.

That has Undertaker cackling more, the noise bothering Sebastian for the first time since he’s known the man. He tries to not show it, but the way that Undertaker keeps fawning over these two men, he can’t help but huff a little.

“You know one day, all those sandwiches will catch up to your waistline.” Undertaker teases the other man, practically draping himself over both of their bodies. “But, yes. I will send in more food for your table. How are you both doing? Up or down?”

Hazel eyes seem to sparkle with a warm affection for the man standing in front of him, making Sebastian ball his hands into fists by his side. “Well, I’m breaking even at the moment, but Dee is down. _Way_  down.”

“Shut it. I’ll get back up, just you wait.”

“You know I love it when you do get it up, Dee.”

Another loud cackle leaves Undertaker’s throat. “You two behave. Enjoy the rest of your evening. I must go and make sure my other guests are taken care of.”

“Fine, leave us.” Vincent raises his glass up. “Thanks for this, ‘Taker.”

If Sebastian had not been wearing gloves, there would surely be fingernail indentations on both of his palms, thanks to the scene he’s witnessing. He watches Undertaker lean over and kiss both men on their cheeks with affectionate kisses, his own lips set in a thin line as he walks back towards where he’s standing.

Undertaker’s arm slips through his a second time. “Come along, Michaelis. I do believe you still owe me an answer.” He’s led out of the high rollers room, his ears becoming assaulted by the cacophony of the main hall. “Perhaps we should do it in a less public place.”

“What the hell for?” Sebastian replies, the anger that’s slowly been bubbling inside of him spilling out. “I think you’ve made it fairly clear to me that there’s no reason to be alone with me.”

Stepping into the elevator at the end of the hallway, Undertaker turns towards him when the doors close. “Who is your mark, Michaelis?”

“No, ’ _Taker_. I will not tell you that. Not until you tell me where you get the money for this sort of party.” Sebastian states. “And where the hell are you taking me?”

A card is slid in the side panel, the two bypassing the rest of the floors as they head up towards the penthouse. “I told you, this is my party. Those are _my_  friends downstairs. Well, mostly acquaintances, but really, when you throw something like this? Everyone says they know you, one way or another.” The cackle is gone, replaced by a light-hearted chuckle.

“You aren’t just an assassin.”

“Michaelis, you _know_  this. I was out of the game a long time ago. I only came back because I enjoy crossing your path.” The elevator opens on the penthouse floor. He follows the man out, desperately wishing that his hair had not been slicked by with copious amounts of gel. His fingers itch to run through his bangs, but must settle for tugging on his waistcoat. “My actual line of business has been extremely profitable, thus allowing me to hold parties such as these in the cities that I love the most.”

“I never figured you’d like Paris,” Sebastian looks around the penthouse, impressed by the extravagance. “Just why did you bring me up here, Undertaker?” He starts to sway a little, reaching out to balance himself on a small table that’s against the wall. “W-What…?”

His eyes start to droop. “Sorry, Sebastian. You know that it’s always easier to do things this way.”

“But-” The last thought he has before he succumbs to whatever drug that Undertaker had poisoned him with was a question that stayed seated on the tip of his tongue. Why do this, when they both know that Sebastian is already willing?

***

Opening his mouth to release a yawn, Sebastian finds that he can’t due to a sticky substance clinging to his lips, essentially gluing his mouth shut. His eyes snap open, and he sees he’s in a dark room, the only source of light coming from the fire in the hearth. It’s a familiar scene, one that Sebastian should not be surprised with, but his accelerated heartbeat informs his brain that he is indeed surprised by it, and a little bit anxious about it.

He inhales deep through his nose. A strong scent pierces his nostrils, this scent immediately recognizable. Pushing his tongue through the crack in his lips, he starts to lick up the substance that had seemed to fuse his upper and lower lip together. The tangy taste makes him moan low, eyes closing reflexively as he licks more of the substance off of his mouth. When it’s all gone, he opens his eyes and sees Undertaker standing in front of him, stark naked, his cock nice and thick, tip dripping with fluid.

“Go on,” Undertaker speaks low, eyes going towards the floor. He looks down, and sees a pool of the man’s release there for the taking. “Lick my cum off the floor.”

Sebastian does not hesitate. He immediately bends at his waist, arms tied behind his back. He licks the man’s essence up off the floor, collecting what he can on his tongue before swallowing it down. This subservient act makes the blood rush to his own arousal, which he knows the other man can see. He doesn’t need to look at himself to know he’s been stripped of all of his clothes. He laps up the last few drops, then settles himself on his knees, licking his lips with half-lidded eyes, staring up at the man he knows so little about.

“Tell me, Undertaker,” Sebastian asks, as the man places the tip of his cock against his waiting tongue. He licks it slow, swirling the tip of his tongue against the flushed head. “Do you treat your other lovers in such a fashion as this?” His lips close over the crown, creating a vacuum as he begins to suckle on the tip.

Fingers push through his hair, dislodging it from its hold by the gel. “You’re the only one, Sebastian.”

He slides his lips down towards the base of Undertaker’s cock, moaning low at the man’s answer. There’s a small part of him that loves knowing that neither of those men downstairs get to experience this side of Undertaker. Neither of them ever said they were exclusive - Sebastian had just been so busy as of late, that he really didn’t have time to find a decent fuck partner. His tongue rubs along Undertaker’s thickness, pulling his mouth back to suckle some more on the tip, before swallowing his girth again.

Hands yank his head off of Undertaker’s cock, his mouth gumming to feel that thickness back between his lips. He’s jerked to his feet, and thrusted downwards onto a desk, arms now stretched out in front of him, no longer bound. He grabs onto the edge, as he feels the wet tip of Undertaker’s girth push against his entrance. Legs spread apart, allowing the tip to sneak inside of his body with a low gratifying moan.

“Does it bother you, Michaelis…?” A warm hand touches his hip, holding him in place, as Undertaker thrusts deep into his body.

“D-Does what….nnngh….bother me…?” He grips the desk, pushing his hips back as he feels the man’s cock fill his body. The way it slides in and out makes him release low, wanton moans. “Fuck….” He wants to say how much he’s missed this, how much he loves how Undertaker’s cock feels inside of him, but it won’t come out of his mouth. Not after the display he witnessed downstairs.

“Knowing I have two other lovers,” Undertaker whispers into his ear, making him moan low, as the man slams deep into him. “Because yes, they’re both mine.”

“W-We’re….enemies, remember…?” Sebastian arches his chest, the tip of his own cock striking the laminated wood below the lip of the desk. “I don’t give a fuck who you get off with.”

“Bullshit.” Moans fall from both of their mouths, as Undertaker pushes harder into him. “I saw your face when I made it painfully obvious who those two men are.”

“He’s my mark.” He lets it slip out.

Undertaker’s movements stop, forcing a low whimper from Sebastian’s mouth. “Which one, Sebastian?” 

His hips roll backwards, but the firm grip on his waist won’t allow him to move too much. “Nnngh. V-Vincent.”

“I will pay you double. Whoever was paying you out, I will double it.” There’s a rushed urgency to his lover’s voice. “Do we have an agreement?”

“Triple.” Sebastian gasps when he feels Undertaker start to roll his hips again. “Triple, and we’re good. He won’t be touched.”

Undertaker’s thickness pushes deeper into him, making him moan a little louder. “You drive a hard bargain, Michaelis. But, the money is yours.”

“Good. Now, quit talking, and fuck me properly, would you?”

Conversation ceases, both men focusing on their desire for one another. Sebastian is flipped to be on his back, both men staring at one another as Undertaker drives his cock deep into his body. He leans his head back, moaning loud as the tip of Undertaker’s cock hits his prostate, making his entire body go numb. Each rough thrust of his hips has Sebastian crying out, his hands now on the edge of the desk near his ass, holding on for dear life as he’s fucked. Fucked good and hard, just the way he enjoys it the most. The minute that Undertaker’s hand touches his cock, Sebastian is crying out in rapture, his orgasm taking over his complete self. Yellow-green eyes meet his, as Undertaker pounds fast into him, a low moan leaving past his lips as he starts to come, the warmth of his release shooting deep into Sebastian’s body.

He grunts softly, as Undertaker pulls out. Tissues are handed to him, and he’s quick to catch what starts to dribble out his backside. “I’ll make sure that the money is wired to your account in the morning.” Undertaker says, wiping himself off with a tissue.

“Is he really worth the price?” Sebastian asks, standing up. He sees that Undertaker has placed his clothes on a chair, and starts to get dressed. “He has does bad things, Undertaker. I only get employed to take care of the bad men, remember that.”

Undertaker fixes his own clothes, pushing his long strands of grey hair over his shoulder. “Whether or not he is a bad man, I cannot say. I know that he does not deserve to die. In fact, I'm quite curious to know how your contractor knew he was alive.”

Tilting his head to the side, he doesn't understand just what that last comment means, but doesn't have the time to discuss it at the moment. “Yet, we did away with his son.” Sebastian reminds him. “Why does he not hate you for that?”

“Who knows.” The man won’t meet his eyes any longer, as he walks over to the door. 

“You never took care of him, did you?” He notices that Undertaker is still refusing to meet his eyes. “Undertaker, did you not take care of the young Phantomhive?” 

Yellow-green eyes finally meet his own. “Neither Vincent, nor Diedrich will be harmed. Do we have an agreement?” 

Undertaker’s hand is stretched out towards him, Sebastian’s question going unanswered. “Why not Diedrich? Wouldn’t it make it easier for you?” 

“Because, no matter what I want, it’s what Vincent wants. If Dee were to be killed off, that would destroy him. And _that_ would destroy me. That is why not.”

"What about the third rule?"

A low chuckle leaves Undertaker's mouth. "Rules are meant to be broken, Michaelis. Sometimes, for the right person, or persons as it were, you throw caution to the wind." 

He reaches for Undertaker’s hand, and shakes it. “You have my word that neither will ever come to harm by my hand. And, if I hear of something that goes out again, I will contact you immediately.”

“Thank you.” The hand that holds his jerks him forward, Undertaker pulling him into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

Closing his eyes, he returns the embrace. “No need to thank me. If I had someone in my life that suddenly had a mark set on them, I’m sure I would react the same way.”

“How about we meet again, under different circumstances, hmm?” Undertaker opens the door, walking Sebastian out.

“‘Taker? Are you here?” They both stop, when they hear Vincent’s voice. “We’re in the bedroom, waiting for you~!”

That anger returns to Sebastian’s chest, but is quickly quelled when Undertaker leans forward, and kisses him softly. “They may be my lovers, Sebastian, but remember what I said earlier. Only _you_  get to see that side of me.” He kisses him again, before pulling away. “See you soon.”

Sebastian nods, showing himself out of the penthouse, ignoring the loud laughter he hears from the three men as the door closes behind him. He takes the elevator back down to the lobby, then heads out, noticing that sun is starting to rise. It seems that he now can count himself among the men that make deals in this city. But, unlike some, he makes them in the light, but at the heart of the deal, it’s dark and evil. With his profession, though, it’s just another deal that helps fatten his bank account. The look of relief on Undertaker’s face, though, is what really makes Sebastian question his morality. Is it worth the risk, to make sure this off-beat lover of his is happy? He thinks that it is, but only time will tell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Before you pull the trigger, you should know my name.”
> 
> And now, time for some backstory. :')

* * *

No one grows up wanting to be an assassin. As a child, Sebastian Michaelis did not say “I’m going to kill people for a living when I grow up!” because he would have been committed right then by his family. No, this isn’t a business you always long to do, unless you’re a sadistic bastard, which he has come across in his years in this profession. However, he had been pulled into this life purely by accident. Some might call it luck, others might call it punishment. Sebastian himself isn’t sure how he would categorize it, but he knows where he’s at in his life right now, and he’s not at all disappointed by the path that has been chosen for him. Having an expensive penthouse apartment all paid for is one of the finer luxuries this position has given to him. Looking out at the downtown skyline, he can see all manners of people moving about in the quiet of the night. Some are working, some are home for the evening, others are putting on airs of appearance - pretending to be someone they are not. He himself falls into this latter category on this evening, but not by choice. By necessity.

“Are you going to come back to bed?” He hears his guest ask. He had been anticipating their arrival, for he had heard them get up from his bed about a minute before. His ears are always on alert, given the nature of his profession. Lifting his eyes, he looks at the glass window, and tracks his guest’s reflection.

Horn-rimmed glasses sit on the man’s nose, making his yellow-green eyes more pronounced behind the thick lenses. Honey blonde hair on the top of his head is completely disheveled, thanks to what he had done to his body only an hour ago. Black hair clings to the back of their neck, and an oversized shirt covers most of their body. Sebastian’s eyes look down, admiring the exposed thighs, his hand itching to touch more of what’s beneath that shirt. He glances back up, and meets the questioning look that’s on his guest’s face.

“In a little bit. I’ve got some things that need attending.”

“I need some attending.” The shirt that’s falling sideways on his frame exposes more of his shoulder to him, making Sebastian lick his lips appreciatively. “The bed’s so cold without you in it.”

Pushing his ebony bangs behind his right ear, Sebastian flashes a smile to him, instantly knowing that the man will not question him again. “Ronald, I promise to warm the bed up, but as I’ve said-”

“Yeah, yeah. Need to attend to some ‘things’.”

“Correct.”

Arms slip around his waist, Ronald’s face pushing against his shoulder. “Just… be quick, yeah? It’s not that often you call me, and ask me to spend the night with you. I want to make sure we get enough time together.”

“I will do my best.” He replies, before turning around. He touches Ronald’s chin, lifting it up to look into his eyes. “You know that my job can be quite demanding at times.”

“I know,” Ronald closes his eyes. “But can’t I just have you for the entire night without any interruptions?”

“I’ll do my best to make that a reality.” He kisses him softly, letting his lips linger longer than they should. The more he kisses him, the more he’ll want to do other things to him. Time is slowly ticking away, and if he’s going to comply with the text he received, then he needs to get moving. He cups his face with his hand, ending the kiss with a teasing lick over Ronald’s bottom lip. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back by your side before you know it.”

Ronald nods his head, eyes still closed, lips parted for more kisses. Unable to resist, Sebastian leans forward, and gives him what they both want. After this kiss, he pulls away, fixing his black turtleneck. “Just what is your job anyway, Sebas-chan?” Ronald asks, cheeks a little rosy.

“Sales.” The lie comes out just as easily as it had the first day he had learned what to say when asked that particular question.

“Sure do keep weird hours for a sales job.” Ronald walks back towards the bedroom, swaying his hips a little as he walks. Sebastian can see he’s got nothing on underneath, making it extremely difficult for him to not follow after him.

Clearing his throat, he grabs his jacket off the back of his dining room chair, and slips it on. “My clients know I am at their beck and call.” He walks towards the front door, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. “I will return soon.”

“Just be safe, Sebas-chan! Wake me when you get back!”

He closes the front door, resting against it for a brief moment before heading down the hallway to his closet. There he grabs his revolver, and its silencer, and puts it in his coat’s inner pocket. He adjusts his jacket to make it look like he’s hiding nothing, and heads to the elevator at the end of the hallway. He thinks about just pushing off this job, instead wanting to spend more time in his bed with Ronald. Leaning against the elevator wall, he crosses his arms, as he hears a voice inside of his head that hasn’t been there in over three years, admonishing him for his current thoughts.

***

“Whatever you do, do _not_  ever fall in love with someone.” The man sitting across from him pushes his glasses back up onto his nose, the light reflecting off of them, hiding away his eyes for a brief moment.

“So, that’s the third rule?” Sebastian asks, taking a sip of his coffee, as he peruses the menu in front of him.

“It might be the third, but it is the most important one. Never fall in love, or become romantically involved with someone. It’s bad for business.”

He huffs out an annoyed breath. “William, you are asking me to do something impossible. I would rather join a monastery, if this is how this position is going to dictate my personal life.”

“Trust me, Michaelis. There are three rules that we all abide by.”

“Keep hidden, get your own food and drink, and then that preposterous last one.” Sebastian interrupts him, enjoying the annoyed look that crosses his mentor’s face. A pleased smirk appears on his own, as he recites what’s been drilled into him the last few days. “I think I should be able to handle things on my own.”

“Nevertheless, they want me to shadow you for your first few marks.” William T Spears stands up, and fixes the folds of his turtleneck. “Come along. Your first mark should be making their appearance very soon.”

Sighing, Sebastian stands up. “I thought we were going to at least get to enjoy lunch.” He sees William put a $20 in the bill fold, knowing that the girl who had taken care of them will be quite pleased, since all they ordered was a cup of coffee. He pulls his sunglasses out of his pocket, and places them on his face. “Pity.”

“We’ll eat afterwards. Come along.” William snaps his fingers, Sebastian wondering to himself just how in the world did he wind up with such a tightwad as his mentor.

***

_Whenever Sebastian gets stressed at work, he heads to the firing range to let off some steam. As of late, he has been going to the firing range almost every other day, as the clients he has been working with have been driving his stress levels to an almost breaking point. One evening, after another stressful day at work, he goes to the firing range, shooting off some rounds when a man comes up to him and asks him to join him for dinner. This man carries an air of elegance to him, even though one side of his head is half covered in cornrows. This strange man hands him a card, and tells him that he had been watching him the past few evenings that he’s come into the range._

_“Do you make it a habit of watching people shoot guns?” Sebastian had asked the mysterious man, taking the card from his hand._

_“When they’re as good a mark as ye are?” The man, Eric Slingby per the name on the card that he has just been handed, asks. “Not everyone can hit a bullseye each time.”_

_Rolling his shoulders back, Sebastian gives a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just something I’m good at.”_

_“Then, how about you join me for dinner - anywhere ya want ta go, and I’ll spin ya a tale about a job that would be perfect for ya.” Eric grins, tilting his head to the side. “What da ya say? What’s there ta lose? A free dinner? Free booze?”_

_Sebastian taps his finger against his chin. “I suppose dinner wouldn’t be terribly out of line.”_

_“That’s tha spirit!” Eric slaps him on the back. “What’s yer name?”_

_“Michaelis. Sebastian Michaelis.”_

_“Trust me, Michaelis. Yer going to listen to me proposition, and won’t refuse.”_

_“We’ll see.”_

***

“Hurry up, Michaelis.” William scolds him, as he unlocks a black sedan. “Time is of the essence when it comes to our profession.”

He gets into the passenger’s seat, and rests his head against the back of the seat. It’s too early in the afternoon to be dealing with someone like William, but if their boss feels that he’s the best to train him, then Sebastian won’t complain. Too much, that is. He looks out the tinted window, and sees that they’re hopping onto the highway, to get to their destination.

“Now, have you ever killed someone before?” William asks, hands at two and ten o’clock on the steering wheel. “Because if you haven’t, then-”

“I will manage just fine, William.” He can feel his adrenaline beginning to spike, as he thinks about just what he’s about to do. “What’s the pay for this again?”

“Ninety-three thousand US dollars.”

“Seventy thousand pounds.” Sebastian’s stomach bottoms out at the number. “And this is just one kill?”

“Correct.”

“Do they all pay this high?” He didn’t even clear fifty thousand pounds at his old job.

William side-glances at him, a smirk on his face. “No.”

“Okay, good.” He breathes a little easier.

“Some pay twice that amount.”

“Fuck.”

William uses his turn signal to merge off the freeway. “Once you have your first success, you will not want to go back to another job again.”

“Will you get any amount from this today?” He asks, pulling out his revolver and silencer, assembling his favorite piece to shoot with.

“A little. What matters most today is that you are successful. If not, then this interview is over.”

Sebastian turns his head to the side. “You’ll kill me.”

The car comes to a stop in an alleyway. William hands him a piece of paper, with directions on how to get to where his mark is. “Do not fail, Michaelis.”

He gets out of the car, and looks around, acting casual. His gun is hidden underneath his black turtleneck, right at his belt. He jogs inconspicuously through the back alleys, following the instructions on the paper. When he arrives at his destination, he keeps to the shadows, climbing up to have a higher vantage point. He looks across the way, and can see his target is only ten meters away, standing near an open window. He draws his gun out, and takes aim, breathing deep. _This is just a job_. Envisioning a bullseye right at the man’s temple, he repeats to himself one more time that this is just a means to an end. He cocks the hammer, eyes narrowing to keep the man’s temple in line with the end of the barrel, and pulls the trigger. His target’s head jerks back, blood splattering the wall, before the body drops to the ground with a loud _thud_. He hears a woman scream, the sudden urge to retch coming over him. He thought the man was to be alone.

Sliding down a drainpipe, he lands on his feet, as activity starts to pick up around the mark’s place. He heads back in the direction he had just come from, and sees the black sedan parked further down the street. He gets into the passenger seat, just as a cop car drives by, followed by an ambulance. The gun is in his front pocket, still hot from the round he’d just shot off.

“The windows are dark enough,” William says. “You can take care of it right now.”

“Thanks.” He pulls the gun out of his pocket with trembling hands, and starts to unscrew the silencer.

“You know, it’ll get easier.” Someone speaks from the backseat, Sebastian’s head turning to look behind him fast. “You did good, Michaelis. Very impressive shot.” The man in the backseat leans forward, laughing in a peculiar manner.

“Who are you?” He asks, the adrenaline still coursing through his system putting him on high alert. He’s got his gun up, pointing it at this unexpected passenger.  

William pushes his glasses up on his nose. “He is one of the top assassins that our employer uses.”

“Before you pull the trigger, you should know my name.” The man starts laughing that peculiar laugh again. There’s a scar that runs diagonally across the right side of his face. Phosphorescent eyes a shade of lime green look him directly in the eyes. “Name’s Undertaker.”

“What sort of a name is that?” He asks, staring at the hand that’s presented to him.

Their driver snorts. “I just said he’s one of the top assassins in our business. His call sign reflects that.”

“Call sign?” Sebastian shakes his head. “What’s yours, then?”

More laughter rings out, as Undertaker leans back. “Go on, Spears. Tell him what your call sign is.”

“Suit.”

He blinks, unsure he’s heard correctly. “Suit?”

“Suit.”

Undertaker can’t seem to control his laughter. “Don’t worry, Michaelis. We’ll get you a call sign soon enough.”

“When?” He asks, as they pass by the residence. A coroner has arrived, and is wheeling his target out in a black body bag. His finger itches, wondering if he’ll get a kill soon. Or something. He needs to do _something_  to get rid of this energy he has. But, according to those rules, he has no options.

“Soon~.”

***

“How’s that feel, Michaelis….?” A low grunt fills his ears, as Sebastian feels this man’s cock driver deeper into him. “Does it take away that _itch_  after your first kill…?”

Groaning, he nods his head, pushing his hips down to feel more of him. “It does…” He moans, his head hitting the wall, as they’re both hiding away in a coat closet.

“Nothing quite like a good _fuck_  after blowing someone’s brains out, am I right?” Grey hair starts to fall over his body, strands falling out of the messy bun the man keeps his hair in.

A warm hand touches his girth, making him see stars, as he moans low. “T-Thought that we weren’t….supposed to get… relief like this…”

“No no no.” Undertaker chuckles in his ear, as he slams deeper into his body. “You’re not supposed to get _involved_  with anyone. You and I? We’re strangers.”

His head hits the wall a second time, as he feels Undertaker’s cock strike his prostate dead on. “S-So…. A quick shag is okay? Just….don’t get attached?”

“Exactly.” Undertaker pumps his cock faster. “Now, Michaelis, why don’t you be a good lad, and come for me, hmm?”

He moans loud, as he comes hard, all the nervous energy he’s been feeling since his first kill dissipating with his release. He hears Undertaker groan low, and soon feels the man coming - well, as well as a person can when they’ve got their dick wrapped in a condom. They stay joined for a few moments, before Sebastian lowers his leg, forcing Undertaker’s cock to leave his body.

Panting softly, he looks into his eyes. “So, that’s that, huh?”

“Welcome to the Killer’s Club, Michaelis.” Undertaker grins, Sebastian’s own lips mimicking his smile.

***

A few years later, he gets a note from the man who had fucked him after his first kill. “I’m retiring, Michaelis. Do be a good lad, and make sure to take out only the truly evil bastards. If you think that maybe they’re not worth killing, listen to your instinct. Be seeing you. - UT.”

One more out of the business. More of the pie for him. He begins to plan his next upgrade to his life - someplace that he can officially call home. With all the money he’s bound to make now that Undertaker is out of the game, the sky’s the limit. And it’s something he’s both excited, and a little nervous, about.

***

“Sir? Sir, I think that you might be in the wrong seat.” Sebastian looks up, and sees a curious fellow standing in front of him. The man has two-toned colored hair - honey blonde on top, and black on the bottom - and has a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. There’s a cowlick on the right side of his part, making him look rather adorable.

Looking down at his ticket, Sebastian shakes his head. “I do not think you’re correct. I have seat 115. As you can see, 114 is on one side of me, and the other is 116.”

“Oh! My mistake.” This man lets his glasses fall to the tip of his nose, so that he can see the ticket over the top of his glasses. “I could have sworn it said 15. I guess it actually says 116.” He pushes them back up onto the bridge of his nose, a cheeky grin on his face. “Pardon me!”

Sebastian watches this man move past him, taking the seat next to him. He almost opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. He had come to the theater this evening to unwind after a rather exhausting kill - his mark had tried to run away from him, and instead of making it look like an accident, it had turned into a debacle. But, he had killed him, and those familiar jitters had returned. Rather than going to look for a good fuck, he had opted to go and see the latest blockbuster movie, as if that would have any sway over how in need of a good fuck he is.

Looking at the screen, the preshow is still playing. “Do you enjoy these types of films?” He doesn’t know what has possessed him to ask such a question, because really, he has no reason to be asking. But, the words come out of his mouth, almost on their own intention.

“I love blockbusters!” The man says, nodding enthusiastically. “I generally go with my mates, but they’re all busy at the moment.” He holds his hand out. “My name is Ronald. Ronald Knox.”

He takes the offered hand, and gives it a shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ronald. My name is Sebastian. Sebastian Michaelis.”

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Ronald grins, shaking his hand.

They turn their attention back to the screen, as the trailers begin to play. After the film is over, Sebastian stands up and stretches. “Well, it was nice seeing this awful movie with you, Ronald. Do take care.”

“W-Wait!” Ronald says, standing up. “Want to go grab a cup of coffee with me?”

That ache is still there, the movie doing absolutely nothing for his libido. “I suppose some coffee would be nice. There’s a shop just down the block.”

“Great! Let’s go there!” Ronald smiles, and walks out of the aisle, Sebastian following him out.

***

It was supposed to have been a one time deal. They fucked, and that was it. But, Ronald had left his number after their first night together, and Sebastian had memorized it before even putting it into his phone. Whenever he’s back in town, he’d think about calling him for a few hours, and then wouldn’t. But, after torturing himself, he finally breaks down and calls him, inviting him out for some coffee. Which then turns into drinks, which _then_  turns into sex back at a hotel. It isn’t until after the eighth or ninth time being together that Sebastian brings Ronald back to his place. And now that he knows what Ronald looks like in his home, he knows that he’s royally fucked up, and has broken rule number three.

***

He takes care of the hit, his phone vibrating when the cool eighty-five thousand pounds hits his bank account. It’s a quick one - the man had been on a jog, leaving him open to Sebastian’s wiles, allowing him to choke him to death in the silence of the night. No mess, no muss. He heads back to his penthouse apartment, putting his revolver and silencer back in the closet, before heading into his home.

Walking into his bedroom, he sees Ronald is sprawled across the bed, snoring loud. He smiles, then heads into the bathroom. He takes a quick shower, to wash off any grime that might have clung to him, leaving him fresh and clean. Sebastian walks back into his bedroom in just his towel, and sees that Ronald is still fast asleep. With a smile, he crawls into the bed, and gently shakes Ronald awake.

“Ronald….” He speaks softly into his ear. “Ronald, you told me to wake you up when I got home…”

“Nnghg’way.” Ronald grumbles in his sleep, trying to pull away from him.

A smile begins to tug onto his lips, Sebastian feeling heat touch his cheeks. “I will not go away, because you are in _my_  bed.”

“Mmm…. Sebas-chan?” Ronald blinks a few times, a soft yawn falling past his lips. “That you..? You’re home?”

“I am, Ronald.” He starts to kiss his jawline, feeling the heat in his lower stomach begin to grow. “I have something to tell you.”

“Mmm….what is it…?” Ronald leans his head to the side, allowing Sebastian to kiss more of his neck. “That you love me?”

Chuckling softly, he nips at the base of his neck. “Close, but not quite. I was going to tell you something you’ve been wanting to know for awhile.”

“Your job.” Ronald sits up, completely awake. “Is that it??”

“Yes.” Sebastian nods, a solemn look on his face. “But, I have to tell you, if I tell you this, you must never tell anyone. Under any circumstance, is that clear?”

His lover nods his head, yellow-green eyes bright. “I understand, Sebastian. Why? Is it something bad?”

“No.” Well, maybe a little. Sebastian looks into his eyes, pushing his own hair off of his face, so that Ronald can see all of him. “You asked about my job before I left. Why I keep such weird hours, and why I travel to all parts of the globe.”

“Yes…?”

“Well, my profession isn’t some strange curator. I’m an assassin.”

Ronald stares at him, mouth hanging open. “A what?”

“I kill bad people for a living.”

“How do you know they’re bad??” Ronald asks, clearly under duress with this new information. “Do you kill innocent people?!”

Sebastian holds his face with both of his hands. “Listen to me. I only kill bad people. My relationship with you is in direct violation of one of our rules.”

“Oh?” That information seems to pull Ronald back to their conversation. “What does that mean?”

“It means that out of three rules, I’ve broken one of them. The one that my mentor told me was the most important.”

Ronald looks into his eyes. “What rule is that?” His voice is slightly raspy.

“Never become romantically involved, or fall in love with someone.” His maroon eyes continue to hold their lock on Ronald’s yellow-green eyes.

He hears his breath catch. “Do you mean it?”

“I do.” Without having to say the words, he knows that Ronald is aware of just what he is saying.

“Then kiss me again, and I’ll forget that you just went and murdered someone.” Ronald pulls him close to him, Sebastian’s lips coming into contact with his, as they kiss each other hard.

He only hopes that this information he’s let slip out will not have its repercussions. That the two of them will somehow make it work so that they can be together with no secrets. He’ll worry about that later. For now, they’re together, having just confirmed their love for one another, and that makes Sebastian happy. Everything else can take a vacation, for all he cares. Right now, it’s about the two of them, and nothing else. Rules be damned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - ”You’re not going to lose me.“

* * *

Now that the secret he’s been harboring for the past year is out in the open, Sebastian doesn’t feel so guilty when he tells Ronald he has to go away for an extended period of time. There are no longer any questions about what his business trip will entail, it’s just a simple “Be safe”, then a kiss goodbye. Sebastian isn’t sure if he’s happy with the detachment, a small part of him missing the way that Ronald would ask him certain things before he leaves on a trip.  

He hasn’t invited him back to his place since the night that he confessed to him. That had been a month ago. They’ve seen each other - Sebastian has gone over to Ronald’s place, and has spent the night, but for some reason, he has yet to invite him back to his place. Perhaps it’s the guilt of knowing that his bedroom is where their relationship took a turn - whether it had been for the better, or worse, it remains to be seen. He wants to ask Ronald to come back to his place, but something keeps him from doing it. And being the kind-hearted person that he is, Ronald has not once bothered to question him about it.

Except Sebastian is tired of this invisible wall that seems to have built around them, and around being able to go back to his place. He’s worked hard to be able to have such a nice place, that it makes him happy to entertain there. He picks up his cell phone, and decides to give Ronald a call.

“What’s wrong, Sebas-chan?” Ronald asks when he answers the phone, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

Trying to control the tone of his voice, Sebastian can’t stop the sigh that leaves his mouth. “No ‘Hello, how are you?’ Ronald?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Ronald quickly says, pulling a smile onto Sebastian’s face. “Hello, how are you? You never call me while I’m at work, so of _course_  I think something is wrong.”

A low laugh leaves his mouth, the sound surprising him. “Am I that awful? I’m sorry, Ronald. I will call you at work more, if that will make you feel at ease when you see me call.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” Ronald speaks quickly, a trait Sebastian has learned that he does when he’s nervous. “But, is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, Ronald. I was calling to see if you wanted to come over to my place this evening for dinner?”

Ronald doesn’t answer for a few minutes. Sebastian is about to say his name, to see if he’d accidentally dropped the call when Ronald finally speaks. “W-What time should I be at your place?”

“How does after work sound?” He looks out at the skyline. “I can come pick you up at your office, if you’d like?”

“I drove today, so I can come to you? Will there be a parking spot for me?” Ronald asks. “Or should I try and find street parking?”

“Park in the garage. What time should I expect you?”

He can hear the smile in Ronald’s voice. “I’ll be there a little after half past six. See you tonight, Sebas-chan.”

“See you.” He ends the call, and heads into the kitchen. Now to see if he’s got anything he can make them for dinner this evening.

***

The doorbell chimes at a quarter to seven. Sebastian wipes his hands off on the apron he’s got wrapped around his waist, and takes a look at the security monitor that shows him his front door. He sees Ronald standing there, shifting back and forth on his feet, looking up and down the hallway in a suspicious manner. He opens the door, and heads to the entrance.

“Good evening, Ronald.” He smiles, opening the front door. “How was traffic coming over?”

“Not too terrible,” his lover answers him. “Your garage-man is a hoot.”

“Isn’t he?” He helps Ronald take his coat off, then hangs it up in the closet near the front door. “I bribe him with exotic teas I pick up for him on my travels.”

Ronald smiles, rolling up his sleeves, then unbuttons the top button of his shirt, loosening the tie around his neck. “It must be nice to be able to do things like that. I sometimes wonder if I’m going to be able to afford my rest for the month.”

“If you need some money, I don’t mind giving you some.” Sebastian pours them both a glass of sangria he had made earlier in the afternoon. “It’s no trouble.”

They clink their glasses together, Ronald talking a much larger gulp from his glass than Sebastian. “No, no. I don’t need your help.”

“Is it because you don’t like knowing where the money is coming from?” His eyebrow raises up, as he stares at his lover. Almost immediately, Ronald begins to fidget. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

Ronald looks over at him, and shakes his head. “No, Sebas-chan, it’s not like that at all. Okay, maybe a little bit, but come on! I had no idea you were _killing_  people to be able to afford a nice place like this!”

“But, if I was a sales person, curating things for clients, then you’d be okay with this lifestyle?” Sebastian asks, trying to understand why that line of reasoning is okay, but the assassin line of work isn’t. “Ronald, you know I only kill bad people. It’s not like I’m going and murdering innocent children.”

“Would you even tell me, if that were the case?” Ronald takes another large gulp of his sangria. “How would I believe you?”

He sets his glass down on the coffee table, and turns to face his lover. “Listen to me, Ronald. The only lie I’ve ever told you is what my job is. And even then, I told you the truth a few weeks ago.”

“A month, Sebas-chan. It’s been a month.”

“Right.” He places his hand on top of Ronald’s thigh. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve really only lied to you about that one detail. Everything else I’ve ever told you is the truth. Including how I’ve broken one of the cardinal rules to my profession.”

“You got involved with someone.”

Staring into Ronald’s yellow-green eyes, Sebastian shakes his head. “No, Ronald. I fell in love with someone. With _you_.”

“I…” His lover looks away, but Sebastian can see that it’s in order to collect himself. “Look, how about we just go back to you being a curator, okay? That makes it easier for me.”

“Then, that’s what I do.” If it takes a lie to make his lover feel more comfortable, then he’ll indulge in the fantasy. “But, I want to ask you one thing first.”

Yellow-green eyes turn back towards him, his horn-rimmed glasses sitting slightly askew on the bridge of his nose. “W-What is it?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, Sebas-chan!” Ronald has a genuine smile on his face. “I just get embarrassed saying it back, because I’m not sure you want to hear all that mushy stuff.”

He holds Ronald’s face with one hand, staring into his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it every once in awhile. Just because you think I’m a cold…curator, doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.” He quickly catches himself from saying the one word he knows he won’t be able to use again around him.

“I don’t think that, Sebastian.” Ronald gives a small shake of his head, but doesn’t jostle it enough to release Sebastian’s hold. “I’ll make a better effort to say it more, okay?”

Smiling, he leans forward to be closer to his lover’s lips. “That is all I ask.” He kisses him softly, keeping his hand firm on his chin, before releasing it as their kiss ends. “Are you hungry? I’ve made us some dinner.”

“Hungry and thirsty.” Ronald nods, with a slight dazed look on his face. Sebastian can’t help but smirk, as he does love seeing that look in his lover’s eyes.

“I have more of that sangria in my fridge.”

“Perfect.”

***

“Nnngh…. Sebas….Sebas-chan….” Ronald moans, his head leaning backwards as Sebastian’s lips kiss a path down his neck.

The two of them outside on his private balcony, having relocated out there after kissing and touching each other in the dining room, both shedding their clothes as they walked outside. He pushes deeper into Ronald’s body, thrusting his hips, kissing the hollow of his neck as he feels Ronald’s legs tighten around his waist. “Does that feel good, Ronald?” His lips brush the shell of his ear, speaking with a low tone.

“D-Don’t stop…” Ronald pushes his hips down, forcing his cock to go deeper into his body. “Oh, _fuck_ ….”

“I won’t ever stop.” He captures Ronald’s lips with a searing kiss, then begins to thrust his hips faster, his cock growing thicker with Ronald’s inner walls clenching around him tighter and tighter.

Their kiss breaks off, Ronald releasing a loud moan towards the sky, as he begins to come. Sebastian growls low, forcing his cock deeper, past the vice-like grip that Ronald’s got on him. He slams hard into him one last time, before his own orgasm takes over his body, his face buried against Ronald’s, as he finds his release.

Legs drop from around his waist, allowing him to move to lay next to him on the chaise they wound up on. Ronald moves to lay on top of him, panting softly as he curls up against him like a sleepy cat. Sebastian starts to play with the black hair on the back of his neck, his cat-like nature becoming more apparent as Ronald’s nose starts to rub against the base of his neck.

“I love the way you smell,” Ronald inhales deeply, then exhales through his mouth. “You smell so good, Sebas-chan.”

“I know you like this cologne, so I decided to put some on before your arrival.” He kisses the top of his head, the cool night air making his skin begin to prickle.

Lifting his head, Ronald looks up at him, his glasses left back on the dining room table, where they had first begun their foreplay. Sebastian looks into his eyes, feeling himself falling deeper into the luminescent irises. “I love you, Sebastian.”

“I love you too, Ronald.” He repeats the words, as if they’re the most natural thing to say.

“Can I tell you something?” 

Sebastian nods his head, keeping his eyes locked onto Ronald’s. “Of course you can. What is it?” 

“Look, it doesn’t bother me that you do what you do for a living. I just….”

“You just?”

His lover closes his eyes, and sighs softly, placing his head on Sebastian’s chest. “I just don’t want you to get killed. I don’t want to lose you. I love you, so much. So, so much.”

“I’m not going to get killed.” He places his hand on Ronald’s cheek, feeling a slight wetness there. He moves to that he can look at Ronald’s face properly. “Look at me, Ronald.”

“No.”

“Please?” He waits for his lover to do as he’s asked, because he knows he will. When he sees Ronald looking up at him, he cups his hand on his cheek. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“How can you say that?” Tears begin to appear in Ronald’s eyes. “Your profession-”

“I am an excellent marksman, Ronald. I am one of the best, if not _the_  best. Please, do not worry, alright? If it will make you feel better, I will tell you about each of my jobs. Will that put you at ease? Then, you can see that they’re bad people, and that you know I’m doing what’s right for the world.”

The sounds of a helicopter nearby fill the quietness on the balcony. Sebastian doesn’t want to pester him for an answer, because he can see Ronald is thinking about what he’s just said. “Alright, Sebas-chan. If I think that they’re not bad, will you not take the job?”

“….I will give it consideration.”

“That’s fair.” Ronald wipes his eyes, as he moves to straddle Sebastian’s hips. “What do you say about going back inside? I can hear that helo getting closer.”

Placing his arms underneath Ronald’s backside, he stands up, and carries the man back into his bedroom, shutting the sliding door with one hand. Laying him down on the bed, he settles between his thighs, his eyes drawn to Ronald’s. “I promise that you aren’t going to lose me, Ronald.”

“I believe you.”

For the rest of the night, neither one bring up the subject again, and instead make love to one another until they both pass out from exhaustion.

***

A text comes through a few months later that Sebastian can’t help but be intrigued by. It’s for a mark, but this is different that the other ones he’s received. This one seems to be an open call, rather than assigned to him. The money that’s offered is the most he’s ever seen for a mark. He replies that he’ll take the job, and gets confirmation from his employer that it’s now his assignment. Ronald will understand why he took the job without consulting him first. Putting the phone away, he goes back to what he was doing before he received the text, and doesn’t give it another thought.

Over dinner, Sebastian decides to tell Ronald about the mark. “Today I received an assignment, and I’ve already told them I would do it.”

“What?” Ronald sets his fork down on his plate. “I thought that you would ask me first about your jobs.”

“I did say that before, but the amount of money is too good to pass on this job.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at the text. “They want to pay me a quarter of a million pounds, Ronald.”

“Who’s the target? The President of the United States??”

He laughs, but the sound quickly disappears, as he sees Ronald glaring at him. “Are you upset?”

“Yes, I’m upset!” Ronald replies, still glaring at him. “You told me that you would tell me about things first, and then we’d decide together if the job is worth it! That kind of money is insane!”

“Ronald, it is two hundred and fifty thousand pounds we’re talking about here.”

“I don’t care!” He slams his hand down on the table. “Don’t you get it, Sebastian? That means there’s a greater risk for something bad to happen to you!”

“How many times must I tell you that I’m not going to get hurt?” Sebastian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m tired of the same argument, Ronald.”

“Who’s the mark?”

“Someone that goes by the name of Ciel Phantomhive.” Sebastian shrugs his shoulders. “It’s nobody. Don’t worry about it. How about you think about the vacation we can take with all that money? Where would you like to go? South America? Japan? The United States?”

Ronald pulls out his phone, and begins to type something into it. He’s about to ask what he’s doing, when the phone gets shoved into his face. “He’s a _kid_ , Sebastian. You can’t murder a child.”

“Who has done something bad. Kids can do bad things, Ronald. Just because he lives in Chelsea doesn’t mean that he’s a perfect little rich brat. Sometimes kids can get away with more terrible things because people think that they can do no wrong.”

His lover stands up, throwing his napkin onto the table. “Do you hear yourself right now? You’re defending the fact that you plan on killing a _child_. I can’t be here right now.” He goes over to where his jacket is, and puts it on. “Thanks for dinner, Sebas-chan. I’ll call you later.”

“Wait, don’t go.” He gets up, and starts to follow him, but stops when Ronald glares at him over his shoulder.

“Don’t. Not right now. I need to think. And _you_  need to think. Are you really going to kill a kid?”

Sebastian knows the answer, but knows that if he says it, then everything will fall apart. “Fine. I’ll tell them to give it to someone else.”

“Do what you want. I can’t be here tonight. I love you, but I need to go.” Ronald sighs, and heads out the door, leaving Sebastian standing in the foyer, alone.

He thought Ronald would be happy with the money. He has no qualms about killing a child. But, if it means he has to choose between Ronald being happy, or his bank account, he knows what he has to do. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and goes to the ‘S’ contacts. He finds the contact he’s looking for, and calls them.

“Spears.”

“It’s Michaelis.” He looks out the window,  eyes focusing on nothing.

“What is it.”

“I…. I can’t take that Phantomhive job.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really.”

“The client isn’t anxious for it to happen right away. They did give some leeway with it. Why don’t you take a few days to think about it, then call me back.”

Placing his hand on the glass, he can feel himself beginning to question his morals for the first time since starting this profession. “What would you do, William?”

“….I would do what is necessary for our employer.”

“So, you would take the kill. Even though he’s a kid?”

“Age doesn’t matter, Michaelis. You know this. It’s about what they’ve done.”

“Even still. If this Phantomhive kid has burned down a house, with a bunch of people in it, would that still warrant his death?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, moving to lay down on his couch. “Can I have until the weekend to think about it?”

“Take a week.”

“Thanks, William. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Michaelis.”

Their call ends, Sebastian staring up at the ceiling. He wonders what Undertaker would do. Would he just say ‘fuck it’, and kill the kid? It’s times like these that he had wished he could have gotten a little more than just a note from him. It’d be nice to be able to talk to another person like himself that isn’t a complete ‘by the books’ type of person like William is.

Even though William’s given him a week to think about it, he knows he’s already made the decision to go through with it. He just needs to figure out a way for Ronald to see that it’s the right choice.

***

“Look, Ronald. If you can’t handle my decision, then I guess that means you really can’t handle who I am.” Sebastian says, growing completely frustrated with the lack of understanding that his lover keeps showing to him. He’s been trying to approach the subject with him over the last week, and now that it’s the night before he has to tell William that he’s doing it, he’d brought it up again, and just keeps hitting a brick wall with his lover. He’s exhausted, and it’s just time to be done with this.

Ronald stares at him. “What are you saying? Are you saying that this is it? We’re over?”

“If you can’t accept that I’m going to be taking a job to kill a child, then yes.” Sebastian looks at him. “Have you done your research on him? This kid is bad news. He’s done horrendous things.”

“HE’S STILL A KID!”  Ronald shouts, getting into his face. “This isn’t right, Sebastian!”

“Neither is killing people for a living, but you don’t see me complaining, do you?” He raises his voice, staring down Ronald. “And you weren’t complaining about it until I got this mark, so who’s the judgemental one now?” 

His cheek stings, Ronald’s hand slapping his face hard. “They were adults. This is a child.”

“Leave.” Sebastian seethes. “You’ve overstayed your welcome here.”

“I thought you loved me,” Ronald begins to cry, and for some reason, Sebastian can’t seem to care.

“And I thought you would be happy that I’m doing what’s right.” He glares at him. “Get out, before I throw you out.”

“So, that’s it, huh? We’re over?” 

“I’m going to kill him, Ronald. I’m going to kill him, and I’m going to make a lot of money doing it. I’m going to kill more children, if that’s what my employer wants. You will _never_  be able to handle it. You never could.” He narrows his eyes. “This was all a mistake.”

“Fuck you, Sebastian.” Ronald grabs his bag. “I hope that after you kill the kid, someone else will do the same thing to you. Because you deserve it!”

The door slams hard, Sebastian watching as Ronald leaves his apartment for the last time. His stomach twists painfully, as his fist slams against the wall. Undertaker had been right - he should never have fallen in love with someone. This pain could have been avoided, but he did not think like an assassin should, and instead thought like a normal human being. Which, apparently, he isn’t.

Picking up his phone, he calls William. “I’m keeping the job.”

“Good. You will receive a text soon with details.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up, and rubs his hand over his face, pushing away any sadness that begins to creep into him, as the reality that Ronald’s gone begins to sink in.

He receives the text a couple of hours later, informing him he’s to move within the next forty-eight hours to complete the mission. He texts back that it won’t be an issue, and then begins to formulate a plan on how to execute the mission.

***

The street is like any other rich neighborhood. Sebastian can see kids wandering up and down, and can see that his mark is playing with a girl with long blonde hair, worn in twin tails on the top of her head. How is he going to make this happen, without the world seeing? It’s just past dusk, and everyone is still playing outside.

Deciding it would do no good to keep lurking around, for he’s sure that these parents watch their children like hawks, he heads around the corner, and goes into a dimly lit bar. Deciding that maybe a drink will help clear his head, he takes a seat at the bar, finger going to the collar of his turtleneck, letting his skin breathe a little.

“What’s your poison?” The bartender asks, standing in front of him.

“Bourbon, neat.” He takes out a ten pound note, and sets it on the bar. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you.” The bartender sets the drink down in front of him, which he picks up, and takes a slow sip. As he sets it back down on the bar, some sloshes onto his hand as a body knocks into him.

“Excuse me, mister!” A girl with coke-bottle lenses on her face stares up at him. “I didn’t mean to bump into you like that, no sir!”

He turns to look at her, taking the napkin she offers to him. “It’s fine. Just a mistake.”

“Can I buy you another round?” She asks, as he starts to turn back towards the bar. A hand touches his upper arm, forcing him to not look at the bar. “Hey, mister! You’re really handsome, you know that?”

He turns back to her, the corner of his lip lifting up. “Is that so? You think I’m attractive? Well, thank you, but a drink is not necessary. Good evening to you.” He turns back to the bar, picks up his drink, and takes a swallow.

“Your loss, mister!” She giggles, and heads back over to where her friends are.

Sebastian takes another sip, finishing the glass. He’s about to ask for another, when he feels himself starting to feel sluggish. What the hell? He begins to open his mouth to say something, but instead slumps over, passing out.

“Night night, Michaelis.” A staccato laugh leaves the mouth of the man who catches his body before hitting the floor. Undertaker slides a fifty pound note towards the bartender. “Thanks, Stan.”

“No problem, Undertaker.” The bartender nods.

Undertaker picks up Sebastian, and takes him through the back. “Time to go and have you answer some questions for me, Michaelis.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "It was necessary."

* * *

A familiar chime begins to ring, rousing Undertaker from his sleep. Reaching blindly for the phone he knows is near him, as it’s always plugged just within reach of his hand, he picks it up, and blindly sweeps to the right to answer the call. “Mmm….hello?”

“Did we wake you up~?” Undertaker rolls onto his back, a tired smile appearing on his face. “Why don’t you turn the video on?”

Clearing his throat, he turns the nightlight on beside him, and sits up in bed. His thumb touches the small camera, which then brings both his face, and his two lovers. “That better for you, Vin?” He asks, a smile on his lips. “And yes, you did wake me up. It’s bloody five o’clock in the morning. Do you know what time I got back to the hotel?” 

“He couldn’t wait to call you,” Diedrich sighs, shaking his head. “I told him you would be asleep.”

“Yes, he did say you’d probably be asleep, but I knew you’d wake up to take our call.” Vincent’s knowing smile has Undertaker wishing that he wasn’t almost ninety-four thousand kilometers away from him. “You always do~.”

Undertaker laughs, and nods his head. “You’re right. I do. But really, I’m exhausted, Vin. Listen, you know that we’ll be together again soon. What was so important you had to call me this time?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see your face, and tell you that we miss you. Hurry back home, ‘Taker.” Vincent’s lips pucker, as the sound of a kiss is blown to him.

Diedrich looks into the camera. “Take care of yourself, ‘Taker. When will you be back?”

“Three days.” Undertaker covers his mouth with a soft yawn. “I’ll call you when I land, alright?”

Both of his lovers nod. “Alright. See you in seventy-two hours,” Vincent blows another kiss. Diedrich gives a nod of his head, and then the call ends.

He sets his phone back down, noticing that the bed is empty beside him. Reaching over, he still feels heat on the fitted sheet, letting him know that it hasn’t been empty for all that long. The sound of the shower then hits his ears, alerting him that his ‘guest’ is in the bathroom. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he grabs his hairband off the nightstand, and pulls his hair up into a loose bun. Not bothering with clothes, he sees the door is open just a crack, allowing him to push it open with minimal noise.

Water ricochets off the glass panes that enclose the shower stall, steam filling up the room. With all the condensation in the room, he can still see the slightly tanned body of his ‘guest’, whose head is bent down, most of the water from the showerhead beating a steady pattern on the nape of his neck. Undertaker licks his lips, before tapping his black tipped fingernail against the glass, a grin manifesting on his face as he takes in the startled expression of the man in the shower.

“What are you doing awake?” Sebastian Michaelis asks, raven locks plastered to the sides of his face, as he turns to look at him, maroon eyes wide.

Chuckling, he gives a noncommittal answer with his shoulders. “Were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye?” The silence from the man in the shower makes him cackle, as it’s always too much fun teasing him. “How do you think that was going to work out for you, Michaelis?”

“I hadn’t put much thought into it.” Sebastian turns his back to him, and stands back under the stream of water. Undertaker continues to admire the view, knowing full well that he knows Sebastian can feel him staring. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join me?”

He reaches for the handle on the glass door, and pulls it open, steam billowing out towards him, as he steps into the large showerstall. His eyes are drawn to the red scratches that are quite visible over both of Sebastian’s shoulders, his fingertips recalling how it had felt to mark him in such a manner. The way that he’d rode his cock the night before, or rather, a few hours ago, had felt far too good. His cock starts to grow hard, as he moves to be closer to him. His lips touch the first red scratch, then moves on to the second one.

“What are you doing?” The words come out, but Undertaker sees Sebastian tilt his head downwards, a silent command to not stop, coming from the simple action.

His finger traces one of the other scratch marks on his back. “Admiring my handiwork.” He slides his fingers down the side of Sebastian’s body, curling them around his hip bone. “Were you really going to sneak out of here?” Undertaker whispers into his ear, knowing perfectly well that he can hear him.

“Seeing as we did what we normally do, why would I stay?” There’s a quickness to his breath, that if Undertaker had not already been attuned to it, he might have missed it. “You got what you wanted.”

A soft cackle leaves his throat, as he places his thickness between Sebastian’s asscheeks. He feels the man roll his hips backwards, as if begging him to put it back inside of him, where Undertaker’s fluids still cling to his inner walls. “Are you complaining, Michaelis?” He rubs the tip of his cock against Sebastian’s entrance, teasing him. “Because, if you are, then I might have to pull you out of this shower, and tie you up again.”

“Stop.” A low moan is followed by the less than forceful plea. He sees Sebastian place his hands against the tiled wall, anchoring himself.

Pushing the tip of his cock into his loose hole, Undertaker speaks low into his ear. “I really don’t think that you’re being honest right now, Sebastian. We both know you want more of my cock before you go off on your next assignment.”

Sebastian’s head touches his shoulder, as he looks up at him. Undertaker hovers his mouth close to his, their lips barely touching, both enjoying their little game with one another. He rubs the tip of his tongue underneath Sebastian’s cupid’s bow, before thrusting his tongue into his mouth, at the exact moment he thrusts his cock deep into his body. The satisfied moan that fills his mouth has Undertaker kissing his former competitor with a passion that only his fellow assassin can bring out in him.

It had just been a random happenstance. The two had wound up in Tokyo at the same time - Sebastian on assassin business, and Undertaker had flown in for a personal business matter. Thirteen million people in the city, and the two had wound up in the same bar, noticing each other at the same exact moment. That had been in the lobby of Undertaker’s hotel. They had not bumped into each other since that night in Paris, seven months prior. Both stood up from the bar, paid their tabs, and had walked to the elevator, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world. Undertaker had led him to his hotel room, both leaving their guns on the dresser, where both could see them. Then, clothes had been torn off (more like ripped, but what’s a few strands here and there), and the two had found solace in one another; one, from the loneliness that plagues him when he’s away from his two lovers, and the other, from the constant lack of a decent sexual partner. Albeit a fucked up one, but both gloss over that topic. Maybe it had mattered the first couple of times, what with Undertaker drugging him and all. But now, it doesn’t take drugs to make Sebastian submit to him; the man does so of his own free volition.

His cock pushes deeper into his body, as the hand that’s on his hip slides down to touch Sebastian’s dick. Another soft moan fills his mouth, as Sebastian pushes his hips back and forth, controlling how Undertaker’s body takes him for another ride. He obliges, thrusting hard into him, while working his cock with his hand. Their kiss breaks off, Sebastian moaning into his ear, as their speed builds up.

“T-Tell me when you’re close,” Sebastian releases a low moan, head going further back on Undertaker’s shoulder.

Thrusting hard into him, Undertaker nods his head, concentrating on bringing him to another orgasm, even though the last one they’d both shared had barely been two hours prior. He pumps his hand hard and fast on his cock, each moan that passes from Sebastian’s mouth louder than the last. When he feels him begin to come, he keeps banging into him hard, refusing to allow his body to reach its apex. Only when he feels Sebastian’s cock stop leaking, he speaks low into his ear, “ _Now_ , Sebastian….”

The warmth that surrounds his cock disappears, as Sebastian drops to his knees, opening his mouth wide. Black strands of hair cling to his face, water pelting his eyelids, the beauty of Sebastian’s complete submission to him has the blood rushing from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He strokes himself off fast, and aims the tip of his cock towards Sebastian’s mouth, but not before coming on his cheek and chin, then squirting his release onto his waiting tongue. Reaching down, he pushes Sebastian’s mouth closed, and watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down, as he swallows Undertaker’s release, the top of his head now taking the brunt of the spray. Wiping his finger across his cheek, Undertaker collects the semen that’s landed there, then rubs his cum over Sebastian’s lips, a smirk on his face. Sebastian keeps his mouth closed, as he wipes the rest of the jizz off of his chin, and paints his lips with the last of his release. With a simple nod of his head, Sebastian starts to smack his lips with his tongue, collecting the rest of Undertaker’s essence, swallowing it down with a low moan.

They look at one another, neither saying a word, as Undertaker helps Sebastian up off of his knees. They share a kiss, Undertaker rolling his tongue inside of Sebastian’s mouth, savoring how his spunk tastes on his tongue. Arms wrap around his neck, his grey hair miraculously staying in its bun, even though the water is now hitting his head, but it doesn’t bother him. Sebastian’s leg wraps around his waist, the tip of his hardening cock pushing back into him as if obeying Sebastian’s command. This time, they move as one, Undertaker setting the tone for this session. Each rough thrust is met by a soft kiss on his lips, the contrast between the two actions fueling his desire for more, which it seems Sebastian is more than willing to give to him.

When they finish, Undertaker takes care to make sure that Sebastian is clean, washing his body, and caring for the marks that he’d put onto his back earlier in the evening. “You don’t have to do this,” Sebastian murmurs softly. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can.” He doesn’t stop, though, and only continues to wash his body. “Did you get your mark?”

“I did.”

“And was he bad?” Undertaker closes his eyes, as he feels Sebastian returning the favor of washing his body.

“Maybe.”

“If he wasn’t, then why did you do it?”

“It was necessary.”

Grinning, Undertaker begins to laugh. “I’m sure it was, Michaelis.”

“How long are you in town for?” Sebastian asks.

“Another night. You?”

“I leave in six hours.”

“Pity.”

Neither say anything more, as they finish up in the shower. Once they’re dried off and dressed, it’s almost half past six in the morning. Sebastian gets ready to leave, when Undertaker stops him.

“I want you to meet me back in Paris. Let’s say…. Two months from tonight.”

An eyebrow raises up. “The same hotel?”

“And the same room,” Undertaker nods his head.

“Your other lovers…?”

Undertaker smirks. “Time to join us for a night, Michaelis. You’re ready now.”

“Then I shall see the three of you in sixty days’ time.” He can see pink dusted on Sebastian’s cheeks, which only makes Undertaker chuckle more. “Do be careful out there, Undertaker.” Sebastian opens the hotel door, and makes his way out of the room. “You never know who’s lurking.”

“Good thing I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine, eh?” He winks, giving Sebastian’s ass a smack, before closing the door. He can hear the other assassin grumbling under his breath, as he walks towards the elevator bay, which makes him chuckle more earnestly.

He lays back down on the bed, his eyes going to his iPhone. Now to figure out the best way to inform his lovers that they’ll be returning to Paris, and someone will be joining the three of them. He’ll worry about it later. For now, he’ll just allow his body to remember Sebastian’s touch, and how good it had felt to be with him again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Look at you all tied up with cum running down your legs… I think I’m going to keep you there for a while. Maybe show you off to my friends.”

* * *

Sebastian hasn’t been back to Paris since his last attempted hit ended with him finding out that his fellow assassin was the man’s lover, and therefore had been asked not to kill him. It feels strange, knowing that Undertaker is carrying on with not one lover, but two, when he’d been specifically told by William to never fall in love with someone. Yes, there has been Ronald, but he had never fully accepted what he did for a living. He wonders if Undertaker’s two lovers know, or if they’re painfully blind to what it is he does when he leaves on an assignment.

Dressed in casual clothes - relaxed blue jeans hang over a pair of black leather Chelsea boots, a black fitted shirt clings to his body, and a grey cardigan covers his arms, as Paris is unseasonably cold on this night. He pushes his bangs off of his face, and raises his fist to knock against the door, when it pulls open, revealing his fellow assassin, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Welcome back to Paris, Michaelis.” He greets him, and steps to the side. “Do come in, won’t you?” 

It feels strange, walking into the room, knowing that there’s no chance of anything happening to him to make this go easier. After the last few times they’d seen one another, they’d agreed that it was no longer necessary, as they both had a mutual understanding. Sebastian heads into the penthouse, and pauses just inside the foyer to remove his boots. The cool touch of tile on his feet feels nice, the rest of his body already heating up by being in such close proximity to Undertaker. He unbuttons his cardigan, and hangs it up next to a coat on a rack.

“Are your lovers here?” Glancing over, he sees Undertaker shake his head. “Oh? Does this mean-”

A soft chuckle leaves the man’s mouth, as he shakes his head. “They will be returning soon. Come, would you care for a brandy? Some bourbon?” Undertaker leads him to the study room, the same room he’d woken up in the last time he was here. “Or, would you just care to get down to business?”

“If you will allow me to watch you pour said bourbon, I would gladly take that.” He goes over to the wet bar with him, enjoying the laugh that leaves the assassin’s mouth.

Undertaker picks up the bottle, and shows it to him, before pouring some into a glass. “No tricks tonight, Michaelis. You have my word on that.”

“Why should tonight be any different?” He replies, taking the offered glass from him. “I’m almost expecting this to already be laced with something to make me pass out.”

Eyebrows wiggle a few times, as Undertaker leans over the bar. “Why, Michaelis. I thought we had gotten passed that.”

“As did I.” He takes a sip of the drink, and finds that all he can taste on his tongue is the smoky taste of good bourbon. “What are the plans this evening, then?”

“Down to business, eh?” Another glass is poured, as more laughter leaves his companion’s mouth. “Well, since the two aren’t back yet, and if you’re in the mood, we can go to the bedroom, and enjoy ourselves alone for a bit?”

Swallowing more bourbon, he returns his eyes to look into Undertaker’s. “I’m wondering…”

“Oh? And what is it you’re wondering about, Michaelis?”

“You said before that I get to see a certain side to you, that the others do not.” Another long swallow, the pleasant burn of the liquor making his body feel warm. “Will that hold true tonight?”

Black nails touch his chin, angling his face to the side, as Undertaker’s lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Absolutely, Sebastian. Why do you think I want to get you into the bedroom right now?”

“Then, why are we still in here?” He asks, closing his eyes, a soft moan escaping from his throat as Undertaker’s tongue sweeps against the shell of his ear.

The glass is taken from his hand, Undertaker locking his fingers with Sebastian’s, leading him to a different part of the penthouse. They come to a stop in front of a bedroom - whether it’s the room that Undertaker cohabitates with his lovers, or if it’s an extra room, he isn’t sure. What he’s sure of is the soft lips that are starting to kiss the nape of his neck, his head dropping forward to feel more of their electric touch, nerves coming to life as they continue to brush against his skin. Hands settle on his hips, as he feels Undertaker’s cock rub against his ass, Sebastian more than willing to submit himself to him.

Fingers tug on the belt around his waist, Sebastian lifting his arms, locking his hands behind the back of Undertaker’s neck. He rolls his hips backwards, as his pants are pushed downwards, his cock jutting out proud as black tipped nails tease the crown. A low, wanton moan slips from his mouth, Sebastian feeling the desire race through him, as his lover continues to tease him mercilessly. He arches his back, pressing his face against Undertaker’s neck, as he continues to whine softly.

“What’s the matter, Michaelis?” Undertaker’s voice sends a tremor through his body. Teeth tug on his earlobe, as the fingers that have been teasing his cock slide up his torso, pushing his shirt up in the process. “Don’t like the way my hands feel?”

“Q-Quite the opposite,” he groans low, blunt nails now dragging across his nipples.

Grey hair tickles the side of his neck, as Undertaker rests his chin on his shoulder. “I can see that.” Fingers drag across his nipples one last time, before the shirt is yanked over his head, black bangs falling onto his face, shielding one eye. He’s led towards the bed, Undertaker guiding him to keep his hands above his head. “Don’t move, Michaelis.”

Knowing it would be pointless to argue, Sebastian keeps his hands above his head, closing his eyes as he realizes how naked he is compared to the man currently trying to find something in a drawer. A loud ‘Ah hah!’ is heard, and then, he feels something cool touch his wrist, his arm being pulled upwards. His other hand is tied up in the same manner, Undertaker making it so he has no use of his arms. Silk touches his face, Sebastian leaning his head forward as much as possible, as he feels a blindfold being tied securely to the back of his head.

“There we go.” Undertaker whispers into his ear. “Comfortable, Sebastian?” 

Tugging on the restraints, he gives a nod of his head. “I am.”

The bed dips, skin touching his inner thigh. _Naked_. A sigh of relief leaves his mouth, happy that the other man is just as naked as he in now. At least, the lower half of his body is, from what he can feel touching his own body. With the blindfold on, his defenses are lowered, his body anxious to feel the touch of his lover. Resting his feet on the bed, he spreads himself open, his face becoming flushed as he hears Undertaker hum appreciatively. Something cool touches his entrance, forcing him to inhale sharply, his head tossing back with a low moan.

Undertaker chuckles low, as his finger pushes into Sebastian’s body. “How’s that feel, Michaelis?”

“More…” He groans, pushing his hips down, grateful that the man allowed him to keep use of his legs. He knows that Undertaker could have tied up his feet too.

A second finger enters the first, the two digits beginning to spread apart deep within him. “I do enjoy making you this needy for me,” Undertaker speaks softly into his ear. He tries to turn his head, but stops when he hears him say, “Don’t.” Staying still, a breathless moan leaves his throat, as a third finger is pushed into him. “Do you want my cock now, Sebastian…?”

“Yes…” He moans low, nodding his head quick, as the three fingers inside of him begin to mimic the actions of what the man’s cock would be doing soon. Tugging on the restraints, he feels little give, causing his adrenaline to spike. Only Undertaker could willingly tie him up, and take away his eyesight, for just a few moments of unrestricted pleasure.

It’s an unspoken trust between the two of them. He knows before that it hadn’t been like this. How had the change happened? Was it the last time he had been here? Or perhaps before that - in Vegas? Sebastian isn’t sure when their status had changed with one another, but the path they’re on, he knows that it won’t ever go back to the way it was before. Even if the man drugged him, tied him up, and tortured him - it wouldn’t be because of the game. It would be because deep down inside, Sebastian knows he loves it, and knows that Undertaker won’t hold back on giving him the pain he so thoroughly craves. Pain and humiliation.

The wet tip of Undertaker’s cock rubs against his entrance, his fingers now placing something at the base of his cock. He moans a bit louder, knowing just what’s been put there. “Just for a little bit, Sebastian,” Undertaker whispers into his ear. “Don’t want you coming too quickly now, do we?” 

“Mmm…” He moans, nodding his head in agreement, lost in the hedonistic pleasure he knows he’s about to receive.

One quick thrust, and Undertaker’s cock is buried deep within him, Sebastian’s throat going raw with the loud moan that tears from his throat. Each rough thrust of his hips has him pushing his own down, wanting to feel more of his lover’s cock go deeper inside of him. Lips touch his, acting in the opposite of how the lower halves of their bodies are going. Tongues touch with gentle caresses, lips cover his own as Undertaker steals his breath away. He moans into his mouth, the darkness covering his eyes allowing him to feel _everything_  happening to him simultaneously. The thickness of Undertaker’s cock, the way his tongue feels in Sebastian’s mouth, how their bodies fit together. The restraint around his cock makes him throb painfully, but he relishes it, knowing that this form of torture is more exquisite than anything the man has done to him before. He drives his hips down harder with each rough thrust of Undertaker’s hips, the tip of his lover’s cock striking that spot deep within him that makes white bleed behind his closed eyelids.

The kiss ends, as Undertaker pulls away from him. “You wanna come, Sebastian…?” He starts to nod his head vigorously, as he can feel himself wanting to split open at how bad he wants to do it. “I’m gonna come too…”

“D-Do it!” He cries out, voice still hoarse, as he’s forgotten how to swallow, his throat completely dry.

The ring is removed with just a touch of Undertaker’s fingers. Sebastian’s body goes numb, as he starts to come, Undertaker’s hand pumping it out of him with rough jerks. He feels him come deep inside of him, the rush of his release surging through him. They both pant erratically, Undertaker slipping out of him with a soft grunt, Sebastian echoing with his own breathless grunt. He’s about to ask him to remove the blindfold, when he hears the sound of a door closing.

“Taker~! We’re home!”

The flush he can feel on his face quickly turns to one of embarrassment, as he realizes just who’s back home. Lips touch his, Undertaker taking away the limited fear that’s sprung up in his mind. “Look at you all tied up with cum running down your legs…” He wants to close his legs, mortification slowing making its way through Sebastian’s body. Another low chuckle sounds in his ear. “I think I’m going to keep you there for a while. Maybe show you off to my friends.”

He wants to protest, but doesn’t, because he knows the real reason he’s here tonight. Undertaker has asked him to come play with his other two lovers, and if this is how the night is to go, maybe the position he’s currently in would work to the benefit of the other two. No matter how embarrassing it is. He can feel Undertaker’s cum slowly dribbling down his thighs, and the stickiness of his own release begins to crust on his lower stomach. The bed shifts, as Undertaker gets up off the bed, and starts to walk away.

“In here, Vincent. Is Diedrich with you?”

“Yes, Herr Taker.” German?

Sebastian waits, knowing that to close his legs would do no good. Undertaker has left him here specifically to show the other two just what it is that’s been done to him. Will this side of Undertaker remain, now that his other two lovers are here? The blindfold suddenly feels like it weighs a ton, a very strong need to take it off comes to the forefront of his mind. But, he’s sealed his fate, and so he waits for the other two men to come into the room.

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive, as he hears soft clapping come from across the room. “Oh, isn’t that nice! Look, Dee! A present.”

“Now, now, Vincent.” Undertaker’s voice has a pleasant tone to it. Sebastian feels a little pain in his chest, wondering why he suddenly cares what this man is like with his other lovers. How is it any of his business how he acts with someone else? “I’ve told you that we would be entertaining a guest this evening. This is the man I had to pay lots of money to the last time we were all here.”

“He’s an assassin like you?” The German speaks.

“Yes.”

He tries to find where these voices are, and how they’re moving around in the bedroom. He isn’t sure which footfall belongs to who, but he can hear the sound of clothes being discarded. Twisting his head to the side, he inhales deeply, the strong smell of a man’s musk infiltrating his nostrils unexpectedly. Something soft touches his lips, the tip of his tongue rolling over the flushed head of someone’s cock.

“Don’t be shy, Michaelis,” Undertaker speaks softly into his ear. “You know that you want a taste, isn’t that right?”

Humiliation isn’t his strong suit, but Sebastian knows that in order for things to proceed as planned, he must allow himself to feel it. With a slight nod of his head, he places his lips over the tip, and pulls it into his mouth, his tongue rubbing just beneath the crown. He hears a low groan, and feels the person push his hips forward, so that more of his cock goes into his mouth.

“Be careful, Die,” Undertaker says. “You don’t want him to choke, do you?”

“A-Apologies, Michaelis.” A soft German accent sounds in his other ear, as the German’s cock pushes more into his mouth.

Moaning low, he gives a small nod of his head, accepting his apology. Something wet touches his entrance, the feel of someone else’s cock. “Vincent, did you put some lube on?” Undertaker asks, as the man’s cock continues to tease his entrance. Sebastian moans around the thick girth in his mouth, as he tries to push his hips down, wanting to know just what this Vincent’s cock is going to feel like.

“Yes, Taker~. I would never _not_  put some on. Shall I put on a rubber?”

Sebastian starts to shake his head, wanting to feel everything completely, knowing that if Undertaker is only sleeping with these two men, and himself, that it’s safe enough. Since he’s not sure how long Undertaker has been with these two - perhaps it’s been the duration of their torrid affair - then it really doesn’t matter. He turns his head more towards the German, sucking more on his cock, wishing for the third time that the blindfold was no longer on his face.

“Are you prepared for me?” Undertaker asks, having a private conversation with the man whose dick keeps teasing the shit out of Sebastian. “Because if you’re not…”

“D-Die and I fucked before coming home,” Vincent moans.

Now Sebastian realizes why this man’s musk smelled so strong. He doesn’t taste anything except skin, as a hand touches his cheek. “I am clean,” the German mumbles, after releasing a low moan, his thumb rubbing Sebastian’s cheek gently.

“Diedrich?” He hears Undertaker say, but isn’t sure why.

“Ja.”

The cock that’s been teasing him pushes into him without warning, causing Sebastian to moan loud, pulling away from the German’s cock. The blindfold is removed, his eyes looking into the hazel eyes of Undertaker’s other lover, who’s pushing his cock deeper into Sebastian’s body. He moans louder, as he sees Undertaker behind Vincent, staring into Sebastian’s eyes, as he pushes into Vincent’s body. Diedrich’s cock rubs against his lips, Sebastian gladly taking it back into his mouth, as his eyes close tight, his body enjoying the rough treatment from these two men.

Vincent’s cock feels nothing like Undertaker’s - thinner, but long enough to penetrate him in a manner than Undertaker cannot. Sebastian’s strained moans continue, as he tries to bob his head on Diedrich’s dick, but with one look into the German’s green eyes, he gives complete control over to him. With a nod, Diedrich begins to roll his hips, drool spilling out the sides of Sebastian’s mouth as he works his mouth on his cock.

Undertaker’s low moans pull his attention back to the two men in front of him. Vincent thrusts hard into his body with each rough thrust of Undertaker’s, the assassin controlling just how Vincent fucks him. And _that_  makes Sebastian lock his eyes on his fellow assassin, staring into his yellow green eyes, as Vincent’s cock pounds deep into his body. Diedrich roll his hips faster, the tip of his cock striking the back of his throat, but he’s prepared for it, and doesn’t choke.

A hand touches his cock, Sebastian groaning low, as the hand pumps him with a skilled touch. He looks down, and sees Vincent’s hand stroking him off, as he pushes deeper into his body. Diedrich pulls his cock out of his mouth, allowing Sebastian to rub his tongue all along the length of it, and is soon joined by Vincent’s tongue. As their tongues touch, he hears Undertaker make the most tempting moan, Sebastian beginning to flick his tongue faster over both Diedrich’s cock, and Vincent’s tongue. He can hear the soft whine in Vincent’s voice, as the four of them finally find a rhythm all together. Sebastian’s eyes stay on Undertaker’s, as he starts to come, Vincent’s cock and hand feeling far too good. He pulls Diedrich’s cock back into his mouth, allowing Vincent to lift himself up, his eyes falling closed as he sees Undertaker and Vincent share a kiss, and instead focuses on making the German come. Sucking harder on his cock, it doesn’t take too long for Diedrich to reach his climax, the tang of his spunk beginning to shoot down his throat, Sebastian swallowing it down. He feels Vincent begin to come, the man choosing to pull out, his warm release mixing with the fresh come sliding off of his lower belly, Sebastian groaning low at the sudden loss.

The restraints on his arms are removed, as he’s moved towards the side of the bed. Trying to focus his eyes, he sees that it’s Undertaker, who has a soft smile on his face. “Are you alright, Sebastian?”

He nods his head, afraid of using his voice at the moment, as it’s still a bit raw. Undertaker helps him up off the bed, the two of them heading to the bathroom, as both Diedrich and Vincent take up residence on the bed, Vincent talking animatedly about the restraints. When they get to the bathroom, Undertaker closes the door, leaving the two of them alone.

“You are more than welcome to stay the rest of the night if you wish,” Undertaker says, handing him a wet washcloth to clean up with. “I’m sure those two will not mind.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “No, I think it’s best if I just go. You enjoy the rest of your night with your lovers.”

“Did he feel good?” Undertaker asks, pulling him up after they both finish cleaning up.

Tilting his head, he gives a nod of his head. “But…. I prefer you.”

“Good answer.” The assassin chuckles heartily, before pulling him into a hug. “You feel good yourself, Sebastian.”

The two share a kiss, Sebastian wishing that he could spend a little bit more time alone with him, but knows that the man has obligations to his other two lovers. Pulling away, he opens the bathroom door, and walks back into the room, gathering up his clothes.

“Awwww. Are you really leaving, Michaelis~?” Vincent asks, who is now straddling the German’s hips, Diedrich’s arms now in the same position that Sebastian’s had just been. The man is slowly sinking himself back down on Diedrich’s cock, his head leaning back, as a soft moan leaves his throat.

Sebastian nods his head. “I’m afraid I must leave. Work and all.” He puts his clothes back on, and pulls his socks back onto his feet. “Perhaps another time?” 

“Mmmm…..That sounds rather wonderful, doesn’t it, Die?” Vincent asks, as he rolls his hips more.

“Ja.”

Undertaker smirks. “You two behave. I will be back soon.”

“Y-Yes, Taker~.” Vincent moans louder, placing his hands on Diedrich’s chest, as he starts to roll his hips more.

The two walk back towards the front door, where Sebastian puts his boots back on. “See you around?”

“I’m sure you will, Michaelis.” Undertaker pulls him close to him, capturing his lips with another searing kiss. “Thank you for indulging me this evening, Sebastian. I won’t forget it.”

“I know you won’t.” He teases, then pushes his bangs off of his face. “Goodbye, _Herr Taker_.” He smirks, then leaves the penthouse.

Arms and ass a little sore, he leans against the wall of the elevator, as it takes him back down to the lobby. Would he see the four of them again soon? The probability of that seems slim, but seeing Undertaker alone? That he would make sure it will happen, sooner rather than later. And under _his_  terms this time. The elevator dings, announcing his arrival back to the lobby. He strides out, and heads into the night, doing his best to not acknowledge that the City of Love has claimed another victim. Himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Pretend you don’t want it.”

* * *

First class is the only way to travel, in Sebastian’s opinion. Since becoming an assassin, being able to afford first class had no longer become a luxury, and instead had become a necessity. Especially with transcontinental flights, where the privacy in the nose of the plane allows him to find the rest he would not find sitting in coach. This trip to the Bahamas is no different, the first class cabin sparsely populated, as it was the off season for the tropics, but business doesn’t care if it’s the height of the tourist season, or if it’s the dead of winter. When someone needs to be killed, he gets it done. Grabbing the black silk eyemask that the airline provides, he slips it on over his head, pulling his bangs out from under the elastic band, and gets comfortable in his reclined seat, his head resting against the provided pillow.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” A familiar cackle sounds near his ear, a rush of hedonistic lust coursing through his body at the jovial noise. “What if this isn’t safe?”

A small smirk begins to appear on his lips, as he keeps his head turned to the side, not bothering to remove his mask. “Well, I suppose I will have to take my chances then.” He exhales softly, hoping that the intruder can’t see how fast his heart is beating through the thin fabric of his buttoned black shirt. “If you don’t mind, I was trying to get some sleep, sir. Enjoy the rest of the flight.”

“Meet me in the second lavatory, Sebastian. Bring the eye mask.” Undertaker whispers into his ear, sending another jolt of desire through him. “Five minutes.”

He pretends to drift to sleep, a soft snore leaving his mouth, as he hears the man begin to walk away. Five minutes seems like such a long time, but he knows that it will go quick. He can hear other passengers snoring, as they race across the Atlantic, trying to beat the sun before it rises behind them. He pushes the mask up from one eye, allowing him to see the watch on his left wrist. Three more minutes. The darkened cabin only has a few illuminated reading lights, for those passengers that can’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how comfortable the first class seats are. He pulls the mask all the way off, and unbuckles his seatbelt. The pillow he’s been resting his head on drops, his hand catching it before it falls onto the ground. Standing up, he fixes the knot of his red eye, puts the eye mask into his inner coat pocket, and then heads to where the lavatories are situated for the first class passengers.

All of the flight attendants are at the front of the nose, making preparations for the snack service that will happen soon. Looking at the doors, he sees there are only three options, the second door being the same with the options available to him. He sees that none of the lights indicate any occupation. Has it not been five minutes? Taking the risk, he pushes the second door open, fluorescent light coming on, revealing to him that it has indeed been five minutes, as there is already an occupant in the shoe sized water closet. The two of them had been in tighter quarters; the first time they had ever done anything sexual together, the memory of that awful broom closet bringing another smirk to his face, as he closes the door, locking the two of them in.

Pushing some of his raven hair off of his face, he keeps his voice quiet. “I must say, I did not expect to see you on this plane. Are you traveling to the Bahamas for a mark?”

“You afraid of a little competition, Michaelis?” Undertaker teases him, nodding his head. “You afraid that I might get to him first? Taking away your pay?”

A full fledged smirk now graces his lips, as he shakes his head. “Of course not. I know that I will get my mark, and you will be the one to suffer not receiving any money.”

“What hotel are you staying at?” Undertaker asks, black-tipped nails now touching the side of face.

“Does it matter?” Sebastian asks, as his eyelids fall closed. He pulls the eye mask out from his coat, and puts it on over his eyes.

He feels Undertaker’s fingers begin to slide down his neck. Panic flares through him for the briefest moment, as fingers tug on the knot of his tie, pulling his head forward. “Maybe I fancy more than a quick shag in this tiny closet.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” He knows he could just tell the man where he’s staying, but this way, the chase is a little more fun for the two of them. The last time they’d seen one another, it had been in Paris, and that had only been three weeks ago. He had not expected to see Undertaker again so soon, but leave it to his fellow assassin to surprise him in such a manner. “Now, are we going to fuck, or just stand around, and talk?”

“You sayin’ you’re horny, Michaelis?” Undertaker guides him to turn around, his back now against the small wall connected to the lavatory on the left. “Cuz I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re saying.”

“If I thought that this would only be a talking affair, I would have remained in my seat.” Sebastian would never have spoken to Undertaker like this months ago, but the way that things have changed between him, he feels like he get away with it. For now, that is.

“If you really don’t want me to talk, what _do_  you want me to do, Michaelis?” A low voice sounds in his ear, making the back of his head hit the shared wall with a dull _thunk_.

Reaching down, he unbuttons his slacks, and pulls his swollen girth out from his underwear. “Fill your mouth with this, Undertaker.”

“Since when did you become so demanding, Michaelis?” Undertaker teases him, but nevertheless, he feels the tip of his tongue touch his rigid flesh. “Give me the address to your hotel, and we’ll finish this properly tonight.”

Sight blocked by the eye mask, Sebastian moans low, as he pushes his hips forward, rubbing himself against Undertaker’s tongue. “You have my word.”

“Then, it’s time you joined the mile high club, Sebastian.” Undertaker chuckles for a brief moment, then pulls Sebastian’s cock back into his mouth with a low groan.

He bites his lower lip hard, silencing himself, as he rolls his hips, the gentle suction of Undertaker’s mouth feeling glorious on his cock. The plane jolts a little, just minor turbulence, not bothering either party in the lavatory. Sebastian’s head hangs forward, as he pushes himself into Undertaker’s mouth. Each lick, each little _suck_ , it makes his belly coil possessively. No other man has sucked him off in such a skilled manner, which makes Sebastian slightly angry. He knows the man is in a committed relationship - having been with his lovers just a couple of weeks prior - but it still doesn’t stop him from lusting after him. It’s bad for business, because he knows there may come a time where a hit will be put out on either one of them, and then they might have to make the decision to kill the other. And _that_  isn’t something he’s ready to deal with, nor does he think he’ll ever be ready.

His orgasm is pulled out of him by Undertaker’s skillful mouth, a shuddering groan barely falling from his lips, as Undertaker swallows his entire release. As he begins to grow soft, he pulls the mask off of his eyes, finding Undertaker’s lips only a few centimeters from his own. They kiss each other hard, as he licks some of his release off of Undertaker’s tongue, swallowing it down his own throat, as they press close to one another. After a few minutes, they pull apart, both panting softly, as Sebastian tucks himself back into his slacks.

“When they make the announcement that we’re making our descent, I’ll have the information you requested.” Sebastian fixes his pants, then his hair, as he looks into yellow-green eyes. “Deal?”

Undertaker cackles, and nods his head. “Enjoy the rest of the flight, Michaelis.” He tips his fingers towards him in a mock salute.

The plane is still quiet, the flight attendants just beginning their snack service, as he takes his seat. Pulling a piece of paper out from one of the in-flight magazines, he messily scribbles on it the address of his hotel, after looking at his itinerary. He folds the paper in half, and then folds it one more time. Looking out the window, he can see that the sun is starting to crest on the horizon, their arrival to the Bahamas not too far away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our descent into Nassau in just a few short minutes. The flight attendants will come around to gather any loose trash of yours. We hope that you’ve had a pleasant journey with us, and we look forward to serving you again soon!”  

Placing the folded up piece of paper into his palm, he looks out the window, and watches as the Atlantic ocean begins to move closer. He hears people moving around on the plane, and then, from the corner of his eye, he sees long silver hair piled up into a bun. Holding his hand out, he cups his palm, and waits for Undertaker to come down his aisle. The paper is placed against Undertaker’s palm, and then, Sebastian returns to looking out the window. Whether or not the fellow assassin will choose to find him remains to be known, but he’s rather hoping that he will, as Undertaker’s fellatio had only been just a little tease to him.

***

His back slams against the door, a low grunt leaving his throat, as he hears the buttons pop off of his shirt. Sebastian had met Undertaker in the lobby of his hotel, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, they’d gone back upstairs to his room. Sebastian could care less about his clothing, as he pushes himself off the wall, and moves them further into the room. No, he’s got one thing on his mind - to feel Undertaker’s cock deep inside of him.

After scouting the area for his mark, he’d found him, and had taken care of the hit. Whether or not Undertaker had been sent to Nassau for the same hit, Sebastian doesn’t know. But it doesn’t matter, as he had texted headquarters that he’d successfully taken care of the kill, and had watched his phone as the money had been deposited into his account. So the next two days could be spent any way he wants to spend them, and if the man that’s currently thrusting his tongue down his throat is willing, he hopes that they’ll be able spend at least one night together.

Nails drag down his back hard, forcing him to break off their kiss, a loud moan tearing from his throat. “YES!” He moans again, keening at the way his back now burns, where Undertaker has taken to marking his skin. It always feels good whenever his fellow assassin does these types of things to him. It makes him appreciate just the way Undertaker handles his body. He somehow manages to get out his pants and underwear, and is now on top of the bed, pulling Undertaker towards him with a feral grin on his face.

“You got your kill, didn’t you?” Undertaker teases him, as he starts to pour lubricant on his fingers. “That’s why you’re so much hornier than you were eight hours ago.”

He puts his shin up on Undertaker’s shoulder, spreading himself open for the man. “And if I did….?” He groans, pushing his hips down to feel more of the man’s teasing fingers. “Should I be ashamed that I was able to get my kill almost immediately upon arrival?”

“Gives the rest of us a nice vacation,” Undertaker cackles gayly, as he pushes a finger into his body. “I feel like I should go home in the morning.”

Maroon eyes look into his yellow-green irises. “But you won’t, will you?” Sebastian hates himself for even voicing the concern he’s been feeling. It’s none of his business. Maybe things were easier when they hadn’t been in whatever sort of relationship they’ve found themselves in now. Maybe getting drugged hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

“No, I won’t.” Undertaker agrees, as he adds a second finger. “Now, how about we stop with all this chit-chat, and focus on the real reason why we’re both as horny as we are?”

Smirking, he pushes his hips down, groaning low as he feels Undertaker’s finger brush against the bundle of nerves deep inside of him. “F-Fuck me….. _please_ ….”

“Pretend you don’t want it,” Undertaker pushes a third finger into him.

The thrill of it suddenly becoming something more familiar to the two of them, even though they’re both aware that there seem to be more feelings involved now, given what they shared three weeks prior, sends their libido up towards the stratosphere. Sebastian no longer pushes his hips down, and instead tries to pull away, Undertaker holding him down firmly, letting him know just who is in charge between the two of them.

“L-Let me go,” Sebastian groans low. His cock fills with more blood, as the sudden turn of events has left him aching to feel more of Undertaker. “Y-You don’t want this…”

“You’re mistaken, Michaelis,” Undertaker looks down at him, a smirk on his lips. “It’s _you_  that doesn’t want this.”

Sebastian pulls his hips back, the fingers deep inside of him disappearing. He turns over to be on his hands and knees, only pretending to move away from him. Undertaker’s hands grab onto his hips, stilling him from moving any further, anchoring him in his place. He puts his hands on the headboard of the bed, nails digging into cheap plastic, as the tip of Undertaker’s cock rubs against his entrance.

“No more play,” Undertaker whispers into his ear. “I need to know you want this, Sebastian.”

“F-Fuck me….” He moans, pushing his hips back, as the tip of Undertaker’s cock slips into him slowly. “Please, Taker….”

The name slips out, having his other lovers use it the last time they’d been together. He wants to take it back, but it’s too late. He braces himself for a harsh smack, but all he gets is a low moan sounding in his ear. “You know, hearing you call me by that name makes my balls ache, Sebastian.”

“T-Then fuck me…..Taker….” He drops his hands down, and balances himself on his wrists, pushing his hips back hard as the assassin slams his cock deep inside of Sebastian’s body.

It’s hard and rough, just the way he likes it. Each time Undertaker thrusts his hips, Sebastian is sure that the next thrust will break him in half, as Undertaker’s cock drives deeper and deeper into his body. He starts to stroke himself off, torn between just feeling what Undertaker’s cock can do to him, and touching himself for his lover, as he knows Undertaker gets off on it. He moans, helpless to the pleasure that only this man can give to him, the desire to be with him consuming his entire body. The rush of his orgasm causes him to go temporarily deaf, as all the blood rushes to the tip of his cock, his seed landing on the 80s decor, some shooting onto one of the pillow cases. He feels his knees beginning to give out, when Undertaker yanks him up hard, and starts to pile-drive into his body, the tip of his cock striking Sebastian’s prostate repeatedly, causing him to fall into an endless cycle of grunts and moans, the pleasure too much for him to handle. The rush of Undertaker’s release flooding his insides has him coming again, loud caterwaul moans leaving his throat.

He collapses on the bed, panting hard, as he feels Undertaker’s softening cock slip out of him. He turns his head, glad to see the glistening tip so close to his face, as he starts to lick up what little cum is left, leaking from the tip. He groans low, lips closing over the sensitive head, his tongue teasing the slit. “S-Stop, Sebastian,” Undertaker groans low, as he starts to pull away from Sebastian’s mouth.

“No,” he whispers, as he pulls it back into his mouth. “We’re not done yet.”

“Nnngh…. If you say so, Michaelis.” Undertaker’s fingers touch his cheek, as he pulls the man’s girth back into his mouth, suckling on it until it starts to grow hard on his tongue.

Undertaker pulls himself out of his mouth, and then lays behind him, so that his back is now to Undertaker’s chest. One swift thrust, and his cock his buried back deep inside of Sebastian, both men groaning low at the penetration. Sebastian feels like a kid in the candy store; after months of no sex, or rather no _good_  sex, he’s now experiencing another good lay after having received it three weeks prior. He almost hopes that this will become the norm. At the rate he keeps craving Undertaker’s touch, he knows he’ll be miserable without it.

Sebastian comes the moment that Undertaker touches his cock, a low moan falling past his lips as he rides out his second orgasm. It only takes a few more thrusts, and then Undertaker is joining him, Sebastian uttering a low moan, as they come so close together. Undertaker turns him to lay towards him, their lips coming together with soft kisses, each still trying to regain their breath after their session.

His eyelids feel far too heavy, but it doesn’t surprise him. After a full day of traveling, and then these activities, it’s a wonder how he’s even still awake. “I don’t want to wait another four months to see you,” he mumbles, not aware that he’s voiced his thoughts, rather than have kept them in his mind.

“I’m sure we can arrange something, Sebastian.” Undertaker’s fingers comb gently through his hair, bringing him a calm peace. “Is that what you’d like to hear?”

“Yes.” He nods his head, hating that sleep is coming faster than he wants it to. “But, on my terms the next time.”

“As you wish, Michaelis.” Soft lips touch his with a firm kiss. “You know how to find me.”

“Do I?”

“Of course you do,” Undertaker teases him. “Just click your heels three times, and I’ll be there.” Laughter rings in his ears, making Sebastian smile.

He drifts to sleep, the smile staying on his face, as he gives his body the rest it so clearly needs. He hopes that this won’t be a figment of his imagination in the morning, but whatever happens, he’ll accept it.

***

A note is on the pillow next to his head, which Sebastian sees after sitting up and stretching. _Text me at this number when you’re ready for me to come to you. Take care of yourself, Sebastian._  A small coffin is at the bottom of the note, the sound of the man’s laughter already ringing in Sebastian’s ears.

The number is different than the one he has in his phone. Not that it isn’t normal for people in their profession to have more than one number, he has to wonder if this is the number that the other two are privy to. Putting it into his phone, he burns the paper with a match, and then gets up from the bed, his body aching in the most pleasant manner. Yes, he will be the one to initiate their next rendezvous. Heading into the bathroom, Sebastian admires the handiwork of Undertaker on his bruised skin, as he starts to draw a bath for himself. Slipping under the hot water, he wonders just how long he can hold out before contacting Undertaker. He sets a goal for himself, and hopes that he’ll be able to keep to it. But, knowing how difficult it is to find a good fuck partner, he’ll be calling on Undertaker far sooner than he’d like. And Sebastian is okay with that.


End file.
